The irony of freelance writing and pursuing time for creative fiction.
It’s crazy, the busier my freelance writing world becomes, the more productive I am with my own fiction work. Go figure! But backstage my unworthiness gremlin slips in and tells me I cannot pursue busy success and write with a true voice at the same time.
Since October 2016 I have been freelance writing for Australian Fashion House, Swish Plus Size Fashion Writing for others keeps me accountable and I love it.
So after a work period of crazy business, some incredible writing opportunities found with events where I forgot to slow down and get still, I felt my self slipping off balance, just like the little gremlin prophecised.
I was tired and luckily I didn’t fall back on patterns of my past. I no longer sucked down my feeling by escaping into food or wine or more activity, in moments like this I did what I do now – I called my mum in New Zealand.
Anxiety was decapitating my head and I knew I was about to run about like a headless chicken in search of the sun.
My mum keeps it real and I know she secretly she loved it when ‘A’ I said Mum I need your advice’ and ‘B’ I stopped speaking long enough to listen,
The words tumbled out all together. ‘I have a ball in my chest where I’m not sure how to breath about my writing. I think I have set it way up high on a pedestal and I don’t know how to reach it’.
My Mum said, ‘I knew you were doing this, you have done this before, you have been running around, being here, there and everywhere and you need to get still. You need to sit down and talk to yourself.’
I really, really wanted to interrupt her wisdom with defence, to delay the inevitable. Although she offered what I needed, my defence, my safety, was reluctant to hearing.
I inhaled hard, bigger than a chicken breath, kicked my inner voice ‘know-it-all’ to the curb and listened.
‘You are enough and whatever you write is enough’
‘Write what you have now. It doesn’t have to be perfect’, she said.
She laughed and then said, ‘why don’t you grab a pen and write about how much you hate me’.
A joke between us from my overdramatic stomps as a teenager when feeling the whole world had wronged me and my mother was the only thing that stood between me and experiencing more of the whole, wrong, world.
I would stomp off into my room and begin writing, but I never wrote hate letters or notes to my mum, I wrote stories. Stories that I escaped and poured myself into, where I created exotic, teen-girl-wanting-to-be dramatic, free landscapes outside of my teenage-tiny-bedroom walls.
As a teenager I wrote from a ball of desire and anger and a need to escape.
I like writing from that place.
And like my mum said, I am enough exactly as I am.
I need to sit, get quiet, be a little bit headless and be more in that heart ball of desire bursting in my chest.
I love writing from that place.
How do you find stillness in your world? I’d love to hear your methods for finding that spot for yourself.
I like doodling in bed too, it helps me to get still.
Some of my freelance work published by Swish Fashion 2017
#women #mothers #nonfiction #growingup #swishplussizefashion #50pluswoman #mentalhealth #parentingadvice #worklifebalance #writerslife #freelancewriting