This week, other than Tuesday, has not been a writing week. It has not been a revising week or a blog reading week. It has been a very full work week. I love my work. I love the rhythm of seeing a full complement of clients and how my mind works when I'm doing that. How I come home tired as if I were a labourer and want nothing more than to watch West Wing reruns with my sweet patootie and wait for the step-dot to come home from Rent rehearsal and tell us how she's doing.
And I love making hay while the sun shines. I know that come January I'm going to have a lot of writing time. That is normal for most of us therapists. People tighten their belt in January - oh sure some make resolutions that may involve going to see a therapist - but most join gyms with their extra money and wait a few months before heading back my way. I understand.
So...my writing life has to take a back burner. It hasn't gone away since I was about 14 so I don't imagine it will now. It has waited patiently while I had kids, and full-time exhausting jobs, and family crises and moving homes, heartbreaks and reversals of fortunes. It doesn't leave me and I trust that.
Most importantly I LOVE MY WORK. I get to talk in a most intimate way with the most wonderful people. When I'm doing that - I don't want to do anything else. I think I'm pretty helpful as a therapist - I'm told I am by those who see me and I believe them. It isn't as if I'm not writing because I'm killing trees (done that) or doing time-management research in a bank (yep - check that off) or organizing mega-conferences (yep). I've done other meaningful work - run a daycare, taught therapy at university, worked with deeply disenfranchised youth - but this practice - that I've had for nearly twenty-five years is the bed-rock of my life. Like my writing self it has seen me through a lot and been fairly patient with it all.
I had someone mention to me lately that perhaps I wasn't giving my therapy practice my all since I was so engaged in other things. I've thought about that and although I won't have an opportunity to suggest to this person that they are wrong - I've at least had the opportunity to explore it for myself. They're wrong. My engagement with life is all about the same thing. I have one purpose and it is served by everything I do. My purpose is to wake up myself and others to the current reality of this moment. This glorious wondrous now. I do it in my therapy practice, when I'm teaching, when I'm blogging and when I'm writing. I do it when I'm clowning, playing the accordion and knitting a hat. I do it when I'm studying the dharma and sitting on my meditation cushion, when I'm walking the dog and attending my step-dot's wonderful performance in a musical. And I bring that all to my clients unabashedly. If they want to find therapists who do nothing but therapy, well, there are plenty of those.
As to my current writing project. I finished all the fiddly bits and a great many of the bigger bits. It will be ready to go out in the new year. huzzah!