Deciding to take a break from writing was a necessary evil. Although I was in agony not writing.I needed to step back. It had gone from a passion to a problem. I made a mistake I think a lot of us do.I got caught up in the numbers ,and the feeling of defeat. Looking back I really wasn’t looking at my accomplishments. Instead I was watching the stats. Almost like being picked for dodgeball again in highschool.If my stats were low on a piece I felt defeated. But in reality,writing a blog for two years give or take. I wasn’t doing bad.Considering every thing I was doing was self-taught.
I learned about sharing other authors pieces. I was learning all the things necessary to get your writing out there.Along with trying to improve my writing skills.Teaching myself grammar,spelling and basically everything to be more clear in my thoughts. I had gotten a schedule down and was diligent in making sure I wrote every Sunday .It didn’t matter the subject or if it was my poetry I wrote. And made sure I tried to write back any comments on a post,along with sharing posts.
So why did I start that ride of beating myself up. Looking at my posts and cringing.Being upset if my stats were low. Instead of beaming in pride of four poems that were extremely popular .or posts that hit home with other writers or a mom that identified with a moment I had gone through. I know its good to challenge ourselves .To strive to be better. So I had to ask myself why was I writing? . I always said it was a passion of mine.This is true. And so is trying to share with my granddaughter that her Mimi,has a lot to say.
I realize now,if I want her to be fearless in life.To try things she’s passionate about. If I was gonna talk.I better walk the walk. So dusting off my ” desk” ,actually my kitchen table. I sat staring at the computer,ready to take the plunge again. But this time,it’s about being proud of myself that I’m doing something I love. And not to worry about the numbers. I’m never going to be in the “New york Times”.
But maybe one day Layla will pick up my folder of stories,poems and blogs and think her Mimi was a cool lady. That’s all in the long run I truly care about .Is the print I leave with my daughters and my grandchildren.They are not going to sit around the coffee table waxing poetic,that mom had a lot of followers. No ,they are going to say ” remember when mom……” There is also the great feeling when once in a while I will get a comment that somebody identified with a moment,or a poem.
I’m back in the saddle again.Wriring,reading and having fun. Next year is going to be even better. I won’t have a group of numerals control me. Or a person for that fact. The next time I’m told I should take a break,or give it up.I will say to them,hold your breath. And then ask them how does it feel not to breathe?. When they reply agony. There you go. It’s the same way I feel .Not writing. Pencils on paper people,there are stories to tell.