This week, I had a hard time nailing down what I wanted to write about. For a few days during my dedicated writing time I continued working on a post I started a while ago, but never finished. Then I started a new post talking about something completely different. And then I bounced back and forth between the two for a couple of days, still feeling like neither was what I should be writing about. While I find both topics to be pretty interesting, they just weren’t getting me excited to write. And, although I know that sometimes when you’re doing something daily, not every day of it is going to be exciting, I want to feel like what I’m writing is authentic and my heart is in it. And my heart wasn’t in either of those posts.
I think it partly has to do with the season I’m in. I mean that literally, as in, we’re going to have high temperatures in the single digits above 0ºF all week, and it’s hard to get motivated to do much of anything when it seems to take so much energy just to get through the winter. But I also mean it figuratively, as in, we’re still in the middle of a pandemic, and I feel like I can’t really go anywhere or do anything without putting myself and others at risk. And, maybe more significantly, I’m almost solidly middle aged now, and I’m still trying to figure out where I fit. I have two part-time jobs that I mostly enjoy, and which allow me to pay my bills, and have some left over, which I know puts me ahead of so many people in this country/world, but I’m still looking for more fulfillment–some way to make a difference. I don’t want to seem ungrateful–I’m SO grateful for what I have. Really. But I feel like I can, and should, be doing more.
I don’t know, maybe it’s a midlife crisis–I think I’m officially eligible now. There are just so many things I want to do and, like my blog topics this week, I’m having a hard time narrowing it down. I’m interested in writing, yes, but I’m also interested in growing plants, and taking care of animals, and working on my own personal growth, and helping others with THEIR personal growth, and in addition to this blog I sometimes think about starting a podcast or a YouTube channel, or building a giant greenhouse, and that’s not even a comprehensive list of my ideas. It just seems like I’ll never have time to do it all.
But for now, I’m going to work on establishing my priorities, so I can do more of the things I really do want to do. My run streak will stay alive as long as I’m able, and I’d like to keep my writing streak going as well. I plan to continue challenging people with whom I disagree (in my own way), and may write about it from time to time. But I’m feeling antsy–I need to be working on something else too. So here’s my thought for this week: I’m ready for spring. Literally, yes. I want green grass, and flowers blooming, and air outside that doesn’t make my insides feel like they’re flash freezing every time I inhale. But also figuratively–I want new adventures, and new challenges, and a clear direction to go in with my free time.
As I was writing this post, I was reminded of a quote from The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison. If you haven’t read anything by Toni Morrison, you probably should–her writing is beautiful, and the topics she addresses in her novels are difficult to read about, but important. The Bluest Eye is divided into four main parts, named for the four seasons. At the beginning of “Winter“, the narrator is describing what they did to survive the coldest season, and then she says, “But mostly we waited for spring, when there could be gardens.” I’m definitely waiting for the “spring” after the “winter” of the pandemic, when the vaccine is widely available, and we can travel, and gather safely with our loved ones again. And I’m waiting for the literal spring, after this frigid, snowy winter. But right now I’m trying to focus on the “spring” that I don’t HAVE to wait for. The one where I choose a direction, and learn, and grow, and do what I can to sow seeds for future growth. Because I’m SO ready for spring. When there can be gardens.
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