Cornered Office
with Mir Kamin
I'm a freelance writer and mother of two working from home, which theoretically means I can set my own schedule so as to best accommodate my family. In reality, "flexible hours" often equals "working too much." Yes, I'm my own boss; no, that doesn't mean life is easy. It's hard to leave the office when you live there. But I love what I do and feel very lucky. And not just because I get paid to work in my pajamas.
To learn more about Mir, check out her profile on Work It, Mom! or visit her blog at http://www.wouldashoulda.com/
On stopping writing
Categories: A mother's work is never done, Deep thoughts, Like talking but with more typing
|
Last week I stopped writing.
Not completely, of course. I have clients, I have contractual work to deliver. I continued writing where I had to. I continued writing about the things that matter less to me; stuff that has nothing to do with how I’m feeling or what I’m thinking.
For almost eight years I’ve maintained a personal blog, and it’s been my refuge to work out my talky impulses when it comes to sorting through things. That blog has seen me through the majority of my kids’ lives (and trials and tribulations therein), several romantic relationships (and lack thereof), remarriage, relocation, everything. Everything. Before that, I journaled. For most of my life. Writing about my life has been central to my existence for a long time.
And last week I looked at the “New Post” screen and just couldn’t do it.
I ended up writing a (rather vague and lame, I’m afraid) quick post to say I’d be taking a break, and then I walked away.
For eight years I’ve not had a problem balancing between sharing my life and maintaining boundaries where necessary. Not that I’ve been perfect at it, of course, but it’s something I’ve felt comfortable navigating. And I’ve always felt like I “needed” to write. It helps me work through things. It’s part of who I am, or at least who I’ve always thought I am.
I’m not saying I won’t go back to personal blogging, once the hurdle currently in front of me is cleared. Logically, intellectually, I think I probably will.
But for the first time in a really, really long time, the impulse to write is just… gone. It’s not that I want to write and can’t, or feel like I shouldn’t. It’s that I don’t want to. At all.
That’s… weird. A little scary. I imagine discovering that part of your body is paralyzed is similarly alarming. Like, “But I used to be able to use this arm just fine. Now it’s useless. How did that happen?” (It occurs to me that this metaphor is probably hugely offensive to, say, someone who’s actually experiencing paralysis. My apologies. It’s the closest thing I could think of to describe how it feels, and no, I do not think the loss of my impulse to write is truly as awful as a paralyzed limb.)
The stuff I continue to write feels flat, to me. (Hello, inept metaphor! Just for example.) I’m on autopilot. I’m waiting to feel like my old self, again.
But I would be lying if I said that a small part of me isn’t wondering if this is permanent… and what that would mean if it is.
Subscribe to blog via RSS
I think the fact that it’s not bothering you proves it’s the right thing for you at this time. You’ve shared so much with your readers for so long, your audience will be there to listen when you’re ready to talk. I, for one, continue to wish good vibes your way–you are my favorite internet person!
Jennifer Joyner | January 31st, 2012 at 2:57 pm
You and me both, Mir. I’m hoping that it’s just JANUARY, because it doesn’t feel like me at all.
Angella | January 31st, 2012 at 5:38 pm
I started blogging much later in life, after my adult children were living their own lives. I have been married for more than three decades, so there’s not much to write about there either. I understand the way writing helps process life though because I was, and still am really, in the midst of transition when I started writing online almost four years ago. When things get tough, I back off from sharing.
Mir, I marvel at how honest you are. I wonder if you’ve stopped writing because you don’t feel comfortable being honest with what’s going on right now. I think that shows integrity. I can’t imagine that people won’t understand or respect your need for privacy. Please know that you and your family remain in my thoughts.
Sharon | January 31st, 2012 at 11:56 pm
My assvice (I try not to do this, but I can’t help it this time):
I think that distance maybe needs to happen before you write about these things, if you ever do at all (whether in a personal journal OR publicly, on the blog).
Maybe try to minimize the obligatory writing work, and take a complete sabbatical from the personal writing, for at least a set period, say 3 months or 6 months.
Maybe not being “allowed” to write will get you going. I don’t think your writing “arm” is permanently paralyzed, but it’s certainly taken some nerve damage, needs to be put in a sling and pampered, while you deal with more pressing matters.
And also, there, there (patting you on back), everything’ll be OK.
Brigitte | February 1st, 2012 at 10:07 am
Like you need my 2 cents on this. But, here they are anyway, your desire to write on your blog will return. I know this because you are a writer. Not a blogger. A writer who happens to have a blog. Your blog is not a blog as much as an open look into your life. And, that’s a little scary when things are not going well and they are not your stories to share.
It may be that the writing or subject of the writing changes, but the desire will eventually come back.
It’s my balancing theory- have I told you- you have all these delicate balances for each thing in your life: romance, finance, home, child 1, child 2, professional, health, etc. If one thing is balanced, it will immediately throw something else off, and as soon as you balance that, the other goes out of whack. We can never have it all, you see. We can only do the best with what we have at that particular moment.
Also, you’re one of my favoritest people ever. For reals.
elz | February 1st, 2012 at 12:02 pm