I can’t have a functioning brain at 6 am when a kid wakes me up the night before 52 times.
I can’t keep the rooster from plucking feathers off the backs of his favorite hens unless I sew them little chicken aprons which are adorable, but I just can’t.
I can’t keep my fluffy dog from getting fleas the last two weeks of the month as her flea medication wanes. And I’ve tried so… many…things!
I can’t find the time to fix the pillows on the couch that have been body-slammed into oblivion, or fix the door that a boy (most likely) climbed on and broke off our bathroom cabinet.
I can’t keep the little fruit flies off of my counter.
I can’t seem to not feel anxious over strange symptoms in my body that are probably bloating but I believe are cancer. My mind + mystery symptom = it’s always cancer. Reality = it was the burrito.
I can’t do all… the… things. So many things.
I CAN write.
I can be “a writer” if I write anyways.
Because what I really mean when I say “I can’t this, I can’t that” is that I’m saying I can’t be perfect. I can’t run a perfect home, farm, family.
I can’t do everything and be the superwoman I want to be. But if I want to be a writer, I can do that.
I can choose to write anyways, chicken aprons or not.
I can write when I wake up early and keep my writing schedule perfect, or when I don’t.
I can write when there are fruit flies buzzing around my bananas.
I can write when I am in the mood and when I’m not.
I can write when I’m feeling excited about my project, and I can write when it feels like drudgery.
I don’t have to do all the things before I can be a writer.
I just have to write.
Is it easier to live a creative life when my regular life isn’t swirling into chaos and clutter? You bet.
But can I still do it anyways? Definitely.
I’m showing up to do the work I want to do (and the work I don’t always want to do).
And that’s why I’m a writer. Because I write.
Am I a perfect writer? No way.
I don’t always reach my goals (2,000 words). I don’t always write everyday. I don’t always make the best choices and sometimes watch Columbo instead.
But I keep coming back and I don’t give up.
I can’t do all the things, or even all the writing things, but I can write. Today, tomorrow, and next week.
And you can too.
What are the things that you let keep you from the creative work you wish you could do?