I had always wanted to write. I had started writing my first book at 13. It was a memoir of a teenage girl (aka me) about my adventures at boarding school. It was raw, vulnerable, honest and funny until it was not. I somehow convinced myself that I shouldn’t pursue this love of mine. After all, I was good at math and science and that is what I “should” do and writing will somehow happen in my free time. I wrote journals, edited my college magazine and dreamt of having my own blog but then again my inner critic took over and I reminded myself that my grammar wasn’t perfect, that I didn’t have enough time or my ideas weren’t original enough and the blog wasn’t born…… Until my baby was born and I was up through the night nursing and trying to make sense of my world and my love of writing, service, community, yoga, mindfulness, coaching would totally keep knocking at my door. Even in this incredibly sleep deprived state, in the middle of the night, I’d scribble in my journal or type down a few words on my phone. I didn’t have a perfect vision or a roadmap or a checklist but I knew I had to listen to this voice of mine that would just not stop. I had to give birth to something that would let me express myself and build a platform that would connect people and build community and my blog was born.
As any new mom will attest, the first year is intense and I work full time and am also going to grad school so I never thought I’d actually be able to feed this love of mine but after 21 posts on my blog and 4 more as a guest blogger, I couldn’t be more grateful to have started my writing practice. While time is a scarce resource, taking out a few hours a month for my writing has given me a soulful container to share my experiences, more importantly an ability to share what I have learnt from those around me and pay it forward. I have learnt that when we take baby steps in the manifestation of our purpose, when we spend time in practicing kindness, our own heart finds more love, more joy and more contentment and this process fuels giving.
Much gratitude to all the wonderful moms in the world who model that we can pursue meaningful paths as a parent even with all the drool on our shirts, the unfolded laundry, the bedtime struggles and the round belly. My writing is a peek into my mind for my growing son. This work is even more important to me as a parent as I am trying to live what I hope to teach him – to take risks, to learn new skills, to give in the world and build meaningful connections. It is a legacy I hope to leave behind for him – my words, the reason behind my words and the impact I hope to create to serve others.
What is that childhood dream of yours that wants to manifest in the world but your inner critic is suppressing it? How can you spend 30 minutes next week to create something that matters to you?