September 18, 2014 by Tiffany A. Robbins
This is a very late blog post. I wrote it over Labor Day and am just now getting it written and posted.
Writing anything (blogs, poetry, novels) reminds me about the things I really want out of life. While I’m in my creative process, I center myself with the universe and various aspects of the world around me. In the moments of introspection between character creation, world building, and point of view decisions, the world becomes very clear. I’m able to focus on the bits of life that heal my soul and are important to the life I long to make for myself.
When I immerse myself in my writing, such as on a three day writing retreat, I always hit a moment of hyper focused catharsis that makes me want to go back to my life and make controlling changes to stear myself back towards the life I’ve strayed from the daily burdens of living life.
This particular three day writing retreat I’m on has been less than productive for my writing as I was ill prepared to meet the goals I set out to accomplish, but the focused catharsis I’ve received from my efforts is as powerful as it has ever been.
There are things in life that I want, and I ache terribly for those things. I want a tiny home (and the simple life that comes with it) that I build with my own two hands. This will take ingenuity and financial dedication that I struggle to achieve. I have a need to free-dive in large bodies of water. This will take creativity and dedication in training. I want to love my husband more. I want to show he’s appreciated and that nothing would bring me greater happiness than existing with him in the absence of all the superfluous distractions that we call our daily lives. I want to achieve a strong physical being so that I can tend to my physical body and it will in turn tend to my emotional body with the same dedication.
I may not have written the twenty five thousand words of focused, skilled yeti lore that I set out to write this weekend, but I did find a set of personal truths that I’d lost a firm grip upon (be it from work, too much television, or the stress that comes from bills I can’t pay). I know I need to enter these writing extravaganzas well prepared, but it is nice to know that even if I don’t, even if my writing is unfocused drivel that’ll never leave the pages of my much loved notebooks, I still achieved a peace that only writing can get me to. My lack of skill and preparation cannot diminish the clarity or peace that three days of pen to paper can bring me.