This piece is a mess, but it’s getting published because I loved writing today. I started with my usual Unedited First Draft, and instead of pausing, I jumped right into the Writing Reflection. You can tell I was still in creative mode because the whole piece makes little sense and there are no reflective comments. But I still love it. Even if it’s only clear in my head, it’s getting published as an unfinished gem. (Maybe more like a rock, a smooth rock, and still in the same family as a gem. A rock that will be reworked so hared it’ll one day turn into a gem)
Do you have any gems, or rocks, you’ve never shared but wished you had? Message me! I’d love to enjoy them with you 🙂
—- UNEDITED FIRST DRAFT —
Monday. I tried to avoid coffee, but a mom showed up to playschool drop off with a mug in hand – like ceramic with a handle – and my willpower shattered. I wanted that mug in my hands.
The kettle was on before I could hang my jacket, so as the water warmed, I made up for my indulgence by, what I call, “Opening the house.” I made beds, open blinds, hung pajamas, yes I did chores, but they could be enjoyed because I knew I was about to indulge in two of my favorite things: coffee and writing.
Which brings me here now: sitting in my favorite spot, pen + notebook on my lap, and my mug sitting nicely in my hands. Victory. Could I be any happier on this rainy Monday morning?
Most Mondays I avoid writing this early. The weight of potential for the upcoming week stuffs so many thoughts in my head that I can’t tell which one should hit the page first.
What if I choose the wrong idea, the one without magic, and I end up writing about nothing of interest. Scary. I don’t like being scared, so I avoid writing for a bit. I search Instagram for clues that will guide me to magic ideas but sometimes, especially on Mondays, there’s no magic online yet. So I wait, I read, and I wait some more and eventually, I read for too long, and I’ve existed the whole day, not writing a word. Then I’m not scared, I’m just sad.
Because life without writing feels like existing, not living. I know this, because I did this, for two long years. I existed as a wanna-be writer who was scared to write.
I had this vague dream of becoming a successful writer that read a lot, drank coffee a lot, played with my family a lot, always knew what to write about, and always wrote the right things. But this wasn’t a realistic dream. Little did I know that “real” writers rarely knew what to write about and often wrote the wrong things.
—- WRITING REFLECTION GONE WRONG —-
This morning I woke with a case of the Mondays. I really wanted to write but my thought muscles were cold, so I didn’t know how to get started.
I don’t like drinking coffee before I write because I can’t think as clearly but this morning I just went for it, as you would towards a challenging writing prompt.
Since I started this challenge, life feels like a dream. I get to write, read, and work on my website; three things I could do 24/7. But as I shared yesterday, I still can’t find the right words to describe this feeling of happiness.
So today I tried to show, not tell. This entire piece can be summarized in two lines:
I drank coffee when I shouldn’t have, because it’s a rainy Monday morning and I don’t know what to write. I can’t describe the feeling I have towards writing.
—- END —
Messy, fun and full of love.
Follow me on Instagram @onemomswords to see if I find gems instead of rocks in Day 19’s post.
This is a new blog: no purpose yet, no images yet, no clear sense yet; just words, lots of tangled words.