Yesterday on my blog, I shared how I just couldn’t bring myself to write on Monday. While I am pretty disciplined for the most part, there are days when I just don’t want to write. Even though I don’t feel as good when I don’t write, I accept this and know I’ll return to my writing.
I’m 41,368 words into my book, Joie’s Gift. I’m finding it interesting that when I began this book, I wondered if I’d have enough to make a complete book. Now I’m thinking perhaps I may have too much as I’ve not even gotten to part of the story that was the very reason I began this book. But ah, yes, the editing stage will eventually come, so will see what transpires from that. For now my job is to keep writing. Get it all out. Leave nothing behind.
After I wrote two chapters today it suddenly occurred to me why I may have not wanted to write on Monday. What I wrote about today is about when Joie had to go to a neurosurgeon. For those that know part of Joie’s story from reading my blog, you know this was a difficult time. I had a heart wrenching decision to make in August of 2013 – one I never saw coming. But then, do we ever really see these coming?
As I wrote about this time in my life, the words flew effortlessly from my mind through my fingers and onto the blank page of my laptop. The cursor didn’t have a chance to blink!
When I was done, I looked out my window next to my writing desk, and the tears seemed as if they came out of nowhere. As hard as that decision was to let Joie go, I realized writing about it, that it was absolutely the right thing to do. It confirmed for me once again, that I did the right thing. But how interesting we carry doubt in our heart even when we think we have let go.
Writing about this time in my life, I realize is another layer of healing for me. Another chance to let go and trust that everything unfolded out just as the Divine had planned. I never had any control over the situation. But I did have control over how I moved forward and and I allow myself these moments to continue to unfold as part of my healing process. Writing is therapeutic for me and part of that process.
Writing about emotionally difficult times clears the way for my heart to open even more. To let out what needs to go and to let in what needs to come next. To experience more of life. To expand. To know that this is exactly right where I am to be in this moment in time.