This morning I was sitting in my room upstairs and sunlight was coming in through the window. I thought it was the nicest thing I’d seen in a while. I was reading and I could hear the washing machine going in the laundry. There was a tissue box next to me, which doesn’t normally live there because I don’t normally have sinusitis.
Being sick has become time to read, which I am not complaining about. Reading when you can see sunlight is one of my favourite things. I have a lot of memories of this exact thing, and they are memories that remind me life has been good. Today is sunny and breezy and the windows are open and the sky refreshes my home and makes me feel well again.
I’ve been reading books about writing, which isn’t something I’ve done for a while. But they are engaging and motivating and I’ve enjoyed being in a space to welcome their words of advice and experience. I am not writing as much public work these days, but behind the scenes is the novel and no matter what happens with it, I’m so happy to be a writer.
It feels difficult to say you are a writer, especially when it isn’t your profession/what you are paid for/what takes up most of your hours. But since working full-time, I tell myself that twenty minutes of writing before bed or before work or waiting for your chai latte is enough to be a writer. Is it still the thing I love to do the most? Yes, alongside reading. Will I ever stop having a blog? Not in the near future.
Of course, writing can be romanticised, as most things in life can. It is easy to look at the life of a famous writer and think, yes, that is it. Think of their desk that overlooks the sea, think of how they write until noon in between cups of English Breakfast, think of how they go for long walks before dinner. Do I want that life? Naturally! But it isn’t the full truth.
Something I don’t think I will ever figure out is the tension between writing and living. How to know when to write the things as opposed to going out and experiencing them! There will always be tensions in what we choose… there will always be some sort of downside, not to mention the complexities of life that are out of our control.
It is nearly time for me to stop writing, for I have soup to cook. The soup of this week has the word “nourishing” in the title, which is why I chose it. Nourishing beans and nourishing vegetables and nourishing parmesan. I will cook some sweet potato ready for a frittata and will leave the windows open. It is still sunny and I am still glad.
Sarah xx
the softest words 