What Is It That I Want?
This week I'm Granma Grace-sitting. We are having a fine time so far, I have only frustrated myself by attempting to get better search engine optimisation while our Grace takes pleasant naps. It isn't a silly thing to try (SEO or naps). I think I have over-tried though, and need to stop before I get reckless - there's a sort of madness in this grasping for success. Perhaps I should go back to querying, find an agent, seek the traditional publication route. What am I actually wanting from this? To get my words in front of more people; to sell books to help finance buying a field. I'm always busy, always working; out at work, working from home, relentless. I stop here and there, recharge, go.
Bringing a dream to life can be a tough gestation.
So, this dream, this field and the living we will make and do within it, why do I want that? To be living in tune with myself and the earth, to spend quality time with family and friends; a sense of achievement comes into it too. The van conversion is near finished (it will never be entirely finished, being a first project especially, one is always learning and adapting things) and this time last year having a camper van was only a dream. How did it happen? We made ourselves rich by making our wants few, plus long work hours. This scores high on the sense of achievement. Maybe the land will come the same way. And with the land comes projects; swimmable water, woods, field kitchen, charcoal kiln, hillbilly hot tub, old tyre sauna, maybe a pirate ship on a little island for my ducks to live in? (Yes, I definitely want that!)
And a space for my writing - whether anyone reads a single line or not, underneath all of this dream making is the compulsion to write, the words that seem anxious to find me. If I had nothing else, if no dreams appealed, I would want to be writing.
The words come now and they say - stop chasing, keep working, it will all happen, pay attention.
Today Grace and I will go walking, by the canal, to a park, somewhere where her memories are gathered. Yesterday we strolled to the river and down by the flood defences which are all new. Out of the water hobbled a little duck, just as curious to observe us.
Come live in my pirate ship, little duck, please; come remind me how to be.
Come live in my pirate ship, little duck, please; come remind me how to be.
Comments