Today the writing challenge suggests to write about the paradox of darkness and light. How our darkest places can become our brightest lights.
I decided to spend this morning with pen and paper, instead of heading straight to my computer. I’ve gone in spurts of using writing in the morning as the biggest and most important part of my spiritual life, but I’ve gotten out of the habit in the last year or so and it felt really nice to write away the morning. What else is there to do in Grand Rapids? Anyway, I want to keep up with writing here as well. 30 days in August, 30 entries. It may be hard, because I am going on two vacations, but I would really love to complete this month with a firmer grasp on how important writing is to my life.
It is easy to find strength in yourself when you do the things that you love. I’ve spent a lot of time this year asking myself the question of whether or not I love what I am doing anymore. The people closest to me must have grown sick of hearing the damn record playing, because I know that I have. I have wasted so much energy talking about what I can do differently, instead of actually doing things differently. I am grateful for this writing challenge because it’s making it clear to me that I have some interesting ideas about priorities. Writing has not been my priority for a while now, because every time I sit down to write, I find myself writing about how unsure of my place in this world I am.
This morning, my place in the world was at a desk with a pen in my hand and a notebook. This afternoon, my place in this world is on an airplane in a blue dress, with a smile on my face. And tonight, my place in this world is in a hotel in Indianapolis.
I don’t know much beyond that, but I do know that if I keep showing up to my notebook and get the words out, something good will come to me. The happiest people that I know do what they love everyday. Even if it scares the ever living shit out of them. They show up.
This is me. Messy, full of run on sentences, bad punctuation, unsure of where this writing will take me, running late, and anxious about everything under the sun. But I am showing up. Day three.