“She lives the poetry that she cannot write” – Oscar Wilde
I am 110% sure there is a book inside of me. I am a little fuzzy on the details of when and how I will write the thing. I suppose I am, in a not so literal sense, pregnant with this idea that also comes with an indefinite gestation period. Little by little it grows inside, forming, developing, maturing, and someday it will come out.
I often wonder, as “pregnant” as I am with this thing, what is keeping me from actually doing it. What causes me to wistfully tilt my head to the side and sigh when people ask “how’s the writing, working on anything now?”
And then I read the above Oscar Wilde quote and it clicked. I am so in the process of living right now. I am living out the very topics that fascinate me and inspire me to write – God, marriage, children, career, friendship, achievement, rest, crafting, wine and tea drinking, bubble bathing, scrap-booking. All the things that arrest my attention and keep me from my keyboard – I am living them now and therefore can not also as readily process and formulate and communicate.
My daily life is its own beautiful (and not so beautiful) grace filled prose. I simply can not be both my own protagonist and narrator. Not right now.
We constantly choose with a finite amount of time what occupies our hours. We continually asses what we want to do now. And what we want to do someday. It’s really hard to both fight the battle and report from the trenches. There is simply no shortcut to perspective.
But the day is coming. And so my hope is not deferred, my hope is in embracing the now. I am faithful for the future.
Someday, I would love to write everyday. I would also love to make an awesome homemade potato salad. I would love to learn how to knit. I would love to raise children that simultaneously love God, have clean underwear, and subside off more than hot dogs!
She cannot write – right now. Because she is living it. So I trust. I trust in this living and I trust that in time, this living gives birth to more.