The most difficult thing about writing for me is time. It isn’t so much about finding time at this stage in life (no kiddos around the house yet), it’s about allowing myself time.
You see, I have this horrid little voice in my brain that tells me every day I should absolutely, positively NOT take any time for my hobbies and creative pursuits when there is work to be done. This is a problem. There is always work to be done.
I am not a terribly messy person when it comes to the type of “Ew, gross, I don’t want to be barefoot or eat in your house” type of messes, but I am a very cluttered person. I have held onto things for memory’s sake, for “maybe I’ll someday use this” sake, for “but it was a gift” sake, for “it’s a waste to throw that out” sake… and because of that my house – which has ample enough room for two people by far – feels like a disaster to me.
Disclaimer: I’m nowhere near hoarding levels, but it’s driving ME crazy, and isn’t that bad enough?
I admit our third bedroom is the “I don’t know what to do with this” room. I want to have the room back, especially since next year we plan on several interior house fixer-upper projects. Difficult to do with mess around.
My mind does not want to allow me anything that causes joy when things are not in their place. I have gotten better about this in stages, but the truth of the matter is it still hangs over my head like a Catholic school nun with a ruler.
Solution: Don’t worry about not writing or not doing other creative things for a time and focus, once and for all, on putting my house together just once. Continue reading