NaNoWriMo is the stuff of people's fantasies (our fantasies) of what it's like to be a writer. And because it's here, it's raising the big questions: Can I be a successful writer? Is it worth all the sacrifices? Am I totally, like, narcissistic and delusional to think I can do this? Am I letting the people I love down by focusing on my own needs? You know the rest.
Whether you've got a crazy schedule and kids to take care of, or simply sometimes ponder the sanity of your choice to be a writer, you need to believe in yourself and your choice. I went looking for answers from one of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver, and found the following beautiful poem. I hope it speaks to you, as it does to me, with love and reassurance. (And don't worry, your kids and spouse will still love you when you resurface and share yourself with them, even more, because you'll be more you.)
The Journey
by Mary Oliver
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice—
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do—
determined to save
the only life you could save.
Have a great journey, everyone.
~ Linda
