I have rarely missed a Tuesday Slice of Life over the last five years ... until this school year. This year has provided many bumps in the road, ups and downs, straight up exhaustion. Time, energy, and the balance of life have not been friendly. I have not lived the writerly life. Nor visited old and new friends to hear their stories each week.
Tuesdays would come and go.
Of course I would think about writing. I would miss writing. I would wonder about you. I would ache not reading your stories. Eventually I would open my laptop briefly. Then fight the tapping of my fingertips on my keyboard -- wondering where my story was hiding. I have stories, just like all of you. But my stories were captured inside me and silent.
And then Tuesday would come and go.
For me, I'm fighting my inner battles of what to share, how to share, how much to share. It's nothing horrible, but it's life at its busiest, most stressful, trying to balance it all, and listening to that inner critic that shouts of disgust: your story is worthless, you have nothing to share, your reflections, thoughts, words are not good enough ... Yet, I know this is the story of every writer.
Tuesday would come and I would still write.
I used to write for me every Tuesday to share my words, my stories, to remember, to hold on to, to laugh and to cry, to connect, to practice and practice and write and write, to learn, to reflect, to be the writer I thought maybe I could be. I would share stories about my daughters and stories about my students and stories about learning. I had a story and I was willing to click that orange 'Publish' button without fear every Tuesday. I'm not letting today come and go without stepping out on that ledge --
Tuesday is here and I'm writing. I'm winning this writing battle. At least for today.