There
is never enough time in the day to read all the books I want to read and to
write all the thoughts and essays I want to write. How does a girl like me
house so many words? Truth be told: I can only house them for so long.
Inevitably and eventually they must be released and this is why I write. The
words and the stories that I house spill over onto the pages before me, and
into the journals that I keep and on electronic documents that I save on my
computer and external hard drive. I have a small drawer at home full of index cards and
napkins filled with words and thoughts and ideas and memories that I scribble. These are the things I scribble about in the middle of my day or late at night as thoughts come to me. I save them
because eventually they serve as inspiration. I save them because these are the
thoughts that are teaching me something in that season and I save them because
eventually these words become stories, my story, the stories I wanted to tell
that I never talked about or wrote about because these stories are about
learning the hard way, about having your aha moments later rather than earlier in life.
I've discovered about myself that when I write, I'm writing the stories of my
heart and this to me is necessary and important, like the air we breathe is
necessary and important.
There are seasons in my life where I could happily sit and write the day away.
That almost always happens on a weekend, when I'm hungry to write. Those are my
stay-at-home, drink coffee and tea, play soft music in the back round pajama
days. This is one of those seasons where I could happily write all day long one
day out of the weekend. Perhaps it's because its winter and the temperature
outside is too cold for my liking. And perhaps it's because these days I'm
trying to live life at the speed of slow, learning to push the pause button on
life to soak in and relish all things and moments beautiful, and to live just
slowly enough to really hear myself think because this year I've decided I want
to live paying closer attention to my thought life. When I slow down, I hear my
thoughts and when I hear my thoughts I have alot to write about.
During the winter months I enjoy the warmth and the coziness of my home and
during the winter evenings, I enjoy being in yoga pants or pajamas pants like
the very second I get home from the office. I'm not kidding; it is absolutely amazing how quickly I can get into those pants when I get home. [insert smile here] And when it's
time to relax, time and schedule permitting, I enjoy lighting fragrant lavender
candles and dimming the lights in the house and sitting in my large and comfy
reading chair near the fire place to read by a near by lamp. I enjoy sitting
there thinking and praying and penning my thoughts as well. I enjoy and love
this like small children enjoy and love playing at the park.
If I could afford a one month sabbatical, I would take one in a heart beat. I
would go away to a beautiful, warm, sunny place that mirrors paradise surrounded by magnificent nature filled with
luscious greenery, the ocean for sure and watch the sun's disk disappear below
the ocean's horizon at the end of each day. I would rise early to meet the day
and catch the sun as it's rising to greet me with its glorious light and its
dramatic brilliance and relish how the sun's brilliance makes me glow from the
inside out. I would spend my days and nights reading and writing, thinking and
dreaming until the light fades. I would release my words, my thoughts on paper
and allow them to take on new form, a life of their very own. I would take
nature walks and soak in the sunshine and drink green tea and listen for the
voice of God in my breath, in the stillness of my being and in the nature
before me.
All of this is a beautiful dream, a lovely thought for sure. But I've learned
that while a thirty day sabbatical is not in the cards for me in my immediate
future, I can still experience moments and days like that. I can experience
them here and there in different ways and on different days and in different
seasons. It's beautiful to dream of extended periods of time doing what you
know you were born to do but its equally as beautiful and wonderful to
appreciate the here and now and to appreciate and to experience these moments
when you can, even if it's only an hour, a day, a long weekend or a week
away.
Beloved reader, discover what it is that you love and do what you love the
most, what makes you feel most alive for in discovering that, you will have
discovered your purpose. Do what you were born to do because that is what
becomes your life's work, the finger prints of love and the legacy you will
leave behind.
Until next time,
xx, Ruthie
Every secret of a writer's soul, every
experience of her life, every quality of her mind is written large in her
works. ~ Virginia Woolf