Writing Regularly, Motherhood, and the Rhythm of Life

This year, it was important to me to put out content during the holiday break. I’d made a promise to myself to publish one blog post a week, and I was not going to let Christmas stop me from keeping up my side of the bargain.

While I believe that downtime during the festive season is necessary for recharging, the Christmas break is never relaxing for me. In between the shopping, gift-wrapping, cooking, cleaning, visiting, over-eating and drinking, as well as retraining my youngest (who gets confused and overstimulated by the festivities), I can never catch a break — let alone be recharged by it.

When I hadn’t looked at my blog in 6 days, and knowing we were headed to a beach town the day after Christmas, it was clear that my agenda was in control.

With each phone notification of new content from folks that I was following on social media, I grew more antsy. I was scheduled to publish my weekly blog post in a matter of hours and there I was, sitting in the recliner in my youngest’s room (coming up to two hours of trying to get him to go to sleep), ready to admit defeat.

I was annoyed at myself for not being more organised; making excuses was the last thing I wanted to do. I told myself that the entrepreneurial writers that inspire me plan for the breaks. (Some probably double their content over this time.) I should have been proactive and queued some posts. I’d committed to regular blog posts in order to find my audience and I didn’t want to jeopardise my momentum.

But comparisons don’t serve a purpose and I could feel that I was placing too much emphasis on what others were doing to get themselves out there. A family member said to me: Don’t be so hard on yourself, It’s Christmas.

That comment didn’t necessarily spark inspiration to give myself grace, and I wondered if that kind of relaxed attitude was the difference between a serious writer and a hobbyist. It was important for me to make the transition to serious writer. I was trying to have a “no matter what” attitude when it came to my writing. Should I have cut myself some slack? Showing up each week — come rain, shine or Christmas — is what I’d expect from a writer who is trying to build and maintain trust with her readers . . .

Despite my fatigue, it was around 11pm when I got my butt in my chair and began to write the shell of a post. Two hours later, my boy was unsettled again, and it was time for me to hit the lights, rather than hit publish. I was nowhere near ready and I’d wanted to keep going. My boy needed his mama, however, and I wasn’t about to ignore that — fully fledged entrepreneur or not.

The next morning, it was a mad rush to load the car for the four-day beach holiday. I had to accept that my post wasn’t going live anytime soon.

We arrived at Port Elliot. I brought my iPad, still hopeful that I’d be able to publish a post. Better late than never, I told myself, as I picked my room and tried to continue where I’d left off. I had a view of the southern hills and a whiff of the sea, and my parents were around to help out with the kids. 

I wasn’t happy with how the piece was coming along. Annoyed, I left it for a while, unsure how to fix it.

Then I was forced to go walking at dusk. There was a pathway which ran between the houses, over the road leading to the beach, down wooden steps with logs for rails, and it brought me to a scenic masterpiece. Creamy light glazed over the brown sugar-like sand and the foamy ocean waves reminded me of cake frosting. I took in what looked like a pastel pink ribbon that had been woven through the Port Elliot sky; God was greeting me with open arms. One look at this magnificence and I was recharged. It was about thirty minutes of heaven, but it was all I needed. I took a deep breath. I smiled big because in my mind I knew how to fix my blog post and make it come to life.

I had forgotten that good writing can be born out of chaos, not just out of harmony, and that the moments inbetween are part of the whole authentic process.

Some people have a knack for thriving and creating in a state of disarray, but if you’re not built for that kind of groove, all you can do is have patience with yourself. It was silly to think that I was entitled to a writing routine without interruption — there is hardly a place for this with motherhood — all I could do was ride the wave of time.

Waiting for the rhythm of life to suit me is futile and will only bring about frustration. I needed to remember that I can trust myself to publish posts at the right time . Internal stress about delays and delivery is also a sure-fire deterrent during a creative process.