Exhale

For the last year, I have written pages a day. Pages. And while the whole romantic notion of "being a writer" sounds wonderful, let me tell you that pages a day is not always wonderful. It's wonderful when you discover that your 6th draft is going to be the one that's "good enough" (a piece is never really "done"). It's wonderful when you turn a piece in. It's wonderful when you're writing about something you really care about. It's wonderful in those rare moments when you're in the zone and could write for pages and pages. And it's really, really wonderful when you no longer have to write pages a day. And as of Monday*, I am FINISHED with my Master's and experiencing all kinds of wonderful!

Huge exhale.

What I love and hate about being a writer is the discipline of it all. Hate that it rarely comes to you quickly. Hate that it's easier to do just about anything other than write. Hate how it isolates me for hours on end--all for the sake of a paragraph! But love how I discover myself. Love how the pages accumulate like layers of quiet snow. Love the feeling of moving people with words. And I couldn't do the love part without discipline, which I often lack as a writer.

As relieved as I am to be finished with the never ending deadlines, I'll miss them screaming at me to WRITE, WRITE, WRITE! like sergeants in my face. I won't have those writing deadlines this year and I'm afraid I'll start to slip into the ease of not writing.

For now, though, I'm enjoying the choice to write or not to write, enjoying the exhale.

*More on Monday's experience later