Words swirl and dance around in my mind. I want to stop and dance with them but I usually don't take the time. Some mornings are simply alive with words and they beckon me to sit down and write.
Most days I turn my back. I chose washing dishes, sorting laundry and writing out an errand list to get things done during lunch. Duty.
Lately I've been coping with change and with change comes my best attempt at controlling everything. It's how I deal with new things. I get wrapped up in duty.
I have a couple of new things. At the beginning of March, I started a new part-time job. Two weeks after I started that job, I started another part-time job. I now have two part-time jobs and in the mornings you can find me in one office and in the afternoons you can find me in another office.
Two offices equals a lot of change. There has been a lot of new details to learn and remember, new people, new procedures and a new schedule. Life has been a lot about duty, control and performing well.
I'm tired of it.
Last week after ignoring the swirl and the dance of my words, I found myself grumpy and hard to live with. Nothing felt right. I was resentful. I started to hate every one of my duties. Duty. Duty. Always duty.
My soul was sick of duty.
Then someone told me I was a writer. What?
Something inside of me pricked up but then I shot it down. Me? A writer? I've not been paid to write in a very long time. I don't have a book on the bestseller list. I write on this blog but not many people see it or read it. Me? A writer? Ridiculous.
I couldn't get those words out of my head. I am a writer. I am a writer? What if I am a writer? Could it be true? Does not being paid to write make me any less of a writer?
I'm still not comfortable with calling myself a writer, it feels weird to me, but I decided to make time to write. I changed up my schedule one more time, and this week I've done it. I've written everyday. I wish I could say I've produced something beautiful and awe-inspiring but I haven't.
But I have written. I have let the words dance and swirl, grab my hand and twirl me around the dance floor and it has been glorious. I feel like me again. Duty is just duty, it's not the stuff of life.
Do you struggle with believing that God has gifted you in some area? Is it our society that tells us we can't call ourselves something unless we get paid to do it? What do you think?
I don't have this all figured out by any stretch of the imagination. I think I'll always struggle with duty. Duty calls to me. It tells me it is always the right thing to do. I'm beginning to realize that my friend duty might not always be telling me the truth.
Take time for you.
What are you? Are you a writer? A teacher? A painter? A singer? A dancer? A chef? A runner? A reader? A watcher of movies?
Don't turn your back on those things. Don't stuff them away.
The glory of God is man fully alive. (St. Irenaeus)
Maybe I'm finally starting to understand.