I stayed up much too late last night. I find that I get a lot done in the wee hours of the morning, but there is hell to pay when I need to be up and ready to teach composition by 8:00 a.m. I have to confess that last night it was worth it. I wrote. I wrote a lot. I wrote my bloody guts out and the evidence is still laying on my desk. My brain needed to do that. So did my heart, and my soul – they needed it most.
I’m not a big believer in a “muse” or in sticking around, waiting for inspiration to find me. When there is work to be done, you get it done. Last night, however, inspiration struck and I went wild with it. We had fun, inspiration and I, and it felt soooo good to release a lot of pent up energy and creativity. I am paying the price today, though. I’m trying to function on three hours sleep; I have a massive stack of papers to grade for class and lessons to be evaluated for ICL; and I will probably wind up being up late tonight in order to take care of these “job-related” items. But honestly, I felt like a starving woman at a banquet last night, and I do not regret a tiny moment of it. It was an important reminder that I am still – and will always be – a writer.
It was a timely reminder, too, as I am signing at the Parkview Elementary first-ever authors’ fair tomorrow. Truthfully, in the chaos that has become my life, I had nearly forgotten the event was scheduled. It coincides with my golf league night – tough choice for me. Okay – not that tough, especially considering how I’m golfing these days. But writing won out. I am eager – nay, I am hungry! – to play that role again; to sign books to children with smiling faces who tell me they want to read my stories. I don’t know that I fully understand the thrill of it – it is certainly something beyond ego and not nearly that trivial. But for a brief time tomorrow night, I get to step into those shoes again and enjoy the fulfillment of having written and had published a book that young readers write to me about and tell me how much they liked the people I created.
I need to fill this well more often, apparantly. So I’m making plans to do so. I have a conference I’m planning to attend in September, and another one in October if I can afford it. I’m hoping my work life will settle down enough to allow me these opportunities. I may just say “Bag it,” and go to them both anyway. I’ve taken too many steps away from my heart and it’s time to return to what I love. I’ve allowed people and circumstances who are relatively insignificant to get in my way, but that stops now – stopped – last night. I remembered my heart,
I remembered what I do and what I love and why I love it. It flooded back into my awareness with a vengeance, and I will not forget again.
Now, it’s back to work.