To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven. Ecclesiastes 3:1
I knew that the resumption of school would open up spaces in my schedule. I expected those spaces would be filled up by a drive to write. Using all free time for writing is considered normal and admirable in the online writer’s communities where I spend so much time. Finally I would have time to participate, to pound through chapters, to post word counts, to set stretch goals. But the kids started school and my writing brain did not unfold the way that I expected it to. I found myself hard pressed to even write blog entries.
I try to live my life by inspiration, so I took my puzzlement with me to the temple. This is the place in the world where I find communication clearest. I always find peace there and I often come away with answers I did not expect, but once recognized I know them to be true. Today I was told that I need to not fill up the spaces with writing. The spaces need to stay spaces. I need to be flexible enough to connect with friends and neighbors spontaneously. I need to have time to get bored and clean the house. I need time to go for a walk, or work in the garden, or visit a museum. These are all good things, and yet part of me feels lazy for leaving the space. I should be working harder, running faster. I want to run quickly so that I can arrive, so that my writing can help pay our bills, so that I can have recognition. But today’s message echoes what I have been feeling for weeks, that I need to find happiness today rather than looking for it in the future. I don’t have to run toward my goals at a pace that wears me out. I can walk at a pleasant, sustainable pace and I will still arrive. In fact I will arrive happier and more whole for not running myself ragged.
As I pondered the implications, I wondered if this “no need to hurry” message implied that my writing does not matter, that it is not important. I spent a few moments prepared to be upset about that, but the truth is that the things I write are not going to change the world on any large scale. They matter to me and they matter to some of the people who read them. That is all I can hope for really. Setting myself stringent daily word goals will not increase the likelihood that my words will make a difference. More important, stringent writing goals are wrong for me right now. There may come a time for them, but this is not that time. Our family needs a respite from having both parents driven by deadlines. Therein lies another source of guilt. Howard has to continue to push himself to get all the work done. I want to push with him, to work hard at something that will potentially lift some of the burden from his shoulders. But that is not my task. My task is to make everything else run smoothly so that his progress is unimpeded. It is hard to believe that my slow schedule is the best way I can help, but I think it is true. It is really hard to not push with him.
This is not my time to push. This is not my time to relax. This is my time to walk calmly and surely forward, to see the world around me, and to meet the needs as the arrive. Each day is a gift and I must consider the best use for it.