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No Perfect Time Than The Present To Write


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For years there were so many things that held me back as I pursued a writing career. One particularly was waiting for the perfect time to write. I told myself far too often that I would write when my world, my family, my home life, even the weather at times, was perfect. I told myself I would write when I was in a better mood and not full of melancholy, or I would write when every room in my home was impeccably clean, or the laundry was done, or a meal cooked, or when a loved one who was ill felt better, or when whatever storm I might be going through passed.

During that season of my life, I felt that a perfect life was the only means to bring about a perfect writing life. I thought that when things aligned with the stars and my prayers, I'd be able to release a long deep sigh, feeling unburdened, and my words would flow effortlessly. 

Of course that was impossible. No one's life is seamless even if they aren't in this profession. There are rips and tears that pierce our spirits, heavy loads we must tow, and rocky terrain we must cross. There's joy but also sorrow, birth but also loss, good health but also sickness, and everything in between, and like most people I've experienced my share of both.

When I was at that point in my life, when I was trying to write solely when my life was perfect, or as perfect as I thought it should be, it led to lots of frustration and hindered my productivity. It took years, but I eventually learned a valuable lesson; that I had to view each day and whatever it held for me differently if I wanted to write. 

I had to relinquish the idea of creating when everything around me was idealistic and remember that everything that was on my to-do list was a priority only to me, or could wait, or could be delegated to others. And I had to accept the fact that there were things I had no power or control over and that I needed to let go of and pray about instead, but not stop writing.

I realized that when life was imperfect, or too full, or challenging, that writing was my saving grace. It was also my great escape at times, and other times it helped me make sense of things, heal, or cope. And sometimes writing during those imperfect times helped me to release laughter or tears, and both were purifying.

Nowadays I am so happy to have discarded my old way of thinking about writing only when life presented itself as perfect to me. There are those times though when I am stressed or worried about all I have to do or be for others, that I close my eyes and imagine myself in an impenetrable rose tinted bubble shielded from all of life's problems and responsibilities...just for a few moments. But then I quickly come back to reality, my reality, and take in a deep breath and exhale, knowing that no matter how imperfect the day, week, month, or year, I'll still be writing. I hope you will too. 


                                                                                          --Jeanine 

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Jeanine DeHoney is a freelance writer who embraces the imperfect world she lives and writes in and the many lessons it brings. 

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