Recently I’ve been carving out more space for thinking and reflection. I don’t think I’ve done this deliberately, but suddenly my mental synapses are firing happily away, my tendency to pause and think is re-invigorated – not least due to the words written by others, be it through books, articles, or blogs.
The beauty of our capacity to think and feel astonishes me – taking some inward part and tugging at it, creating a need to think more deeply and communicate more profoundly.
Which makes me look at my own writing projects and think: what has got left behind? What should I be focusing on – but I am not?
My main big project, bubbling in the background is still the ‘book’ on forgetfulness and memory, a bubbling that does not stop, but is often trampled on by my medley-like mind, churning with ideas. I’m challenged to take time out and truly focus on it, in the manner I did in November for my novel writing project. That project was purely for fun, but it showed me how much I could write if I developed the daily habit of working on one longer piece of work. I’m more nervous at approaching this one – because I take it more seriously.
It’s a book about our tendency to forget – and how this impacts our sense of identity and our faith, yet often I myself forget to actually work on it (pulls face at irony).
I pray that some how I will be able to choose wisely what I focus on and when, not neglecting the important things nor stealing time from those who need me.
Something has happened to me in the past year whereby I no longer desire to ‘be’ a writer; it is what I am. Suddenly I am experiencing something that I had always hankered after: a sense of vocation. I can feel it running through me, fiery and passionate, desperate to be heard.
I do not know how to describe it, but I am utterly grateful for it. I just pray I use it wisely.