Wednesday, June 6
Whenever I sit down for a few brief, rare but necessary, moment of quiet. Side note, I can't imagine what it'll be like when I have a husband, kids and a house. I can't seem to help but let my mind wander and usually the thoughts that go through my head go something like this, "Ah, peace and quiet. This is so calm and relaxing...I should write about that." or "Oh, look at that beautiful sky, or the smell of the air. This is really just a great moment of stillness....I should write about that." And then I usually proceed to begin writing the story out in my head. Thinking mostly of how I would begin.
For a long time, I felt really bad about it. I felt like I shouldn't be thinking about writing. And I don't always think about blog writing; sometimes I think about the book I'm going to write. I should be soaking in the goodness of the moment. Living presently with what I am surrounded by. So I would try and stuff the thoughts.
Today, I had one of those moments. As I was finishing reading, I was sitting just enjoying being home. In the silence of my house, I began to hear the church bells ringing just down the road. By this, I knew it was six o'clock. But then I started really listening to them. They were beautiful. Glorious old hymns rang out strong. It reminded me of home. It reminded me of the church bell at my home church. It didn't ring like this one, but it still resonated something in me. Sometimes I think I have an old soul. I think I could have lived in the "good ole days" and been perfectly content. This bell reminded me of the wholesomeness that still exists in our world. Then it hit me...
"I should write about that," I thought.
Moment ruined. "Really, is that really what you're going to think about right now," I thought to myself. "Just enjoy the moment and don't think about what you're going to write about it."
Then I had an "ah, ha" moment. I'm not trying to justify my constant need to be thinking about my next move before I've even completed the first one. But it occurred to me that in that moment, listening to the bells, I was inspired. And what do I do when I am inspired. I write. I finally felt like I understood myself just a little bit clearer. Instead of getting irritated at myself for thinking about writing, instead I need to embrace it. Embrace the inspiration. Be driven by it. Write because of it.
If artists try to stifle when they're inspired to paint, we would be missing out on so many beautiful pieces of artwork. Or if musicians didn't write songs because they thought they shouldn't be thinking about music, we would be robbed of so many melodies. So, why should I try to do that to my form of art work.
Now instead of being frustrated with myself for thinking about writing. I will use the inspiration to write down words that are inspired by it.