Letter Writing and Finding my way

I used to write lots of letters. Long letters...epic letters. Besides journaling, letter writing has probably been the most prolific outlet for my inner-writer over the years. Unfortunately, even I seldom write letters anymore. Mostly, the convenience of e-mail wins out over the art of handwritten notes. Not that I don't feel remorse over it--I do. It's just the way life is these days. Occasionally though, sentimentality takes over and some dear friend gets a letter, usually with a nostalgic intro about friendship, passing time, autumn leaves or the forgotten art of letter writing. Sometimes I send the letter, sometimes I don't and then it works it's way into something else I'm working on. For what it's worth...I think it's a sign that I need to get my writing self in gear...a desperate grasping for that little buzz word-lovers get out of well crafted prose or poetry.

For about three weeks now I've been exploring the idea of going back to school. I almost did it. It all started with a little inquiry into the nursing program at our local career college...just out of curiosity, not something that I imagined would happen in the next few years. But before I knew it, I was registered and about a week away from enrolling in winter classes. My mother-in-law had generously offered to help with the little ones while I attended classes and studied. A nurses wages would easily pay off our loans in 3 or so years if I went to work after graduating (granted I made it into the program which is pretty competitive, only accepting 30 students twice a year.) Our thoughts were for the future of course...getting me a marketable degree...save for the kids education. The possibilities were exciting, the challenge of something new was intriguing. But along with the nervous doubt in my gut that accompanied the excitement, I started hearing myself saying interesting things whenever I talked about this new endeavor...things like, "If I could do what I really wanted..." Then at conferences both of my children's teachers commented on their impressive journal and story writing. Hmmmn...I love to hear this...I heard myself say, "I'm a writer," almost more to myself than to them. My doubt was growing. But everything fell through one night as I was sitting on the couch nursing Ruby after the other kids were in bed. I looked down at her and something snapped. I started to cry. This is where I am supposed to be and what I am supposed to be doing. What an awesome opportunity I have to be here with them, my little ones, for such a short time. I don't want to take it forgranted.

Last night my husband confirmed my feelings. So here I am...back in the moment. Being a mom...and a writer. This place is the very place we need to be...what we are experiencing is exactly what we need to grow through. There's love and joy but there's also pain and frustration. It's all ours to embrace and learn from...expanding in spirit with every step. This is good...it's perfect, just what we need.

Maybe I'll pick up letter writing again.