On Monday evenings I’ve decided to head to my favourite cafe after work and write, just for me, for as long as my heart and soul wants me to.
And it almost feels naughty, as if I’m skipping school or something (which I admit in high school I did often—I hope my sons don’t read this) and there’s something delicious about deciding what you’re going to do with your time—just because you want to.
That feeling of ultimate freedom to do what you want, when you want to is something we can lose as we get older and have more responsibilities, including kids.
But, I’m taking some of that heady feeling back, albeit responsibly (meaning after work) and taking that time just for me to do exactly what I want with it.
And so I feel kind of naughty in a ‘looking after myself’ kind of way.
It feels really good!
I’ve been looking forward to it for days and I think that’s part of the point—something to look forward to.
Something to focus on as a lighthouse in a storm, which keeps us bobbing on the surface of our ocean and away from the perilous rocks and undertow.
For me that’s what writing is, it’s my lighthouse. It keeps me en route and guides me away from the more treacherous obstacles lurking just under the surface.
Because we’ve all got them, those obstacles. Our obstacles don’t necessarily look or feel the same, but we all have them.
The goal is to live with them and let them be a part of you. I do that through my writing, and I believe I’m infinitely better for it.
It certainly feels good, and anything that feels this good couldn’t be bad.