Not the one about how I wrote a letter to God Part 2
The writing a letter to God story is such good story. I already wrote it last week and was just coming on to finish it and it’s GONE. I’m so mad about that I’m not sure if I can write it again. Well I certainly can’t today. The one I wrote, I recall vaguely, was really shaping up to be a cracker. And today it’s just not there.
Today I’m tired of not writing. And in the searching for the draft of the one about how I wrote a letter to God I found this. And it reminded me that the thing that gets in the way of me writing is all the other things I do when I’m not writing. The reason I lost the mostly written post in the first place is because for some reason I stopped writing it (and did something else – no doubt important), and then I didn’t save it, and now it is NOWHERE.
How can it be nowhere?
I’m not writing. I’m not writing. I’m not writing. I guess it’s obvious when you have a blog and you stop posting that you’re not writing. I’m pulling so many things off, and suddenly everything that’s been stalled is starting to happen or is happening.
Except writing every day. I’m exhausted tonight. I pulled off a fairly magnificent day which started with coaching at 6am, and didn’t really go quiet until kid’s bedtime at 8pm. By then I’m so completely smashed I can’t speak or write coherently and once I have a bath and put on the infamous leopard print robe I’m done. And it doesn’t even see worth writing about not writing. But my head is swirling in all the unwritten.
The unwritten haunts me. It hides in my heart, at times it makes my chest ache, sometimes it makes me laugh, and sometimes it makes me cry. The unwritten haunts me in dusty corners, and under the wet washing and it even lurks in my bed, talking quietly to me while I try to go to sleep.
What would it take for me to make writing like eating or showering or having warm lemon water in the morning? What would it take for me to find a way to unwrap the words from around my insides and put them out there even if it meant I had to show more of my insides? Is it possible that there is more of me to show? It seems impossible to stop here.
I really want to write the one about how I wrote a letter to God. But until I totally commit to that, it’s not going to come out. And then it becomes another thing I said I’d do and didn’t do. Of all the things I have committed to, and all the things that are slowly falling into place, writing every day is not.
What is that about?
Dear God – I can’t seem to work out why I don’t prioritise time for writing, and although I have said repeatedly over the last two years I want to write every day, it just doesn’t happen. What is that about? I have a few other questions too (I’m sure that’s no big surprise, but since you told me to take Facebook off my phone so I don’t waste time scrolling I’m curious how I still manage to waste time? Oh, and how do you know about Facebook?) but I‘m going to leave it there because I have to go to yoga. Thanks for listening, can you reply via my keyboard?