The Hardest Thing I’ll Ever Write

This is the hardest thing I’ll ever write.

How do I know?

Is it today’s pattern of getting up and sitting down, closing and opening the browser, threatening to turn in for the night? I’ve cycled through 5 times already, swinging between freezing and sweating, making trips to the closet to rectify each extreme.

Is it staring at the blinking cursor? Changing the title, the outline, the point, the topic. Considering just skipping this one altogether.

Is it facing reality? Reality that I’m in the midst of a move. I pulled in a few days ago and this might very well be the first time I’ve sat down since. Reality that I’ve got three littles under eight. Reality that our house is more of a construction zone (self-inflicted DIY kitchen update) than a familiar refuge. Reality that my computer died today. Reality that every few minutes, I’m asking “what is the most urgent thing on my plate?” and the answer is ALWAYS keeping the two year old alive (a feat not easily accomplished in our aforementioned construction zone scenario). Reality that a close second is (take your pick) the next step on the kitchen redo, reconnecting with friends after a year away, unpacking, or stocking up on this habitat’s endangered species – diapers, wipes and chicken nuggets.

Life wants to trump writing. Life is stealing my brain power. Life is an imperfect environment for the task.

This post has been hard to write.

But, what makes it the hardest post I’ll ever write is the return.

The culprit is the return.

The return to my normal, my familiar, my same.

It was while I was away when writing rose to the surface. It’d always been there, but this year, I realized how important it was. To me. For me. When I write, I finally hear what it is I’m thinking and feeling. Writing is soil for thought-seeds growing in my brain with nowhere to sprout. Writing is a dependable road when all other routes are jammed. It is sometimes the only way my thoughts make sense.

Be it personal, social, professional, fun or deep, the words need to find their form.

It’s proven life-giving. It’s emerged as necessary. And it’s becoming a discipline.

It is one of many facets of life that changed while I was gone. I’m the same person, but I’m changed. I’ve come back to the same people. the same place, the same job, but I’m changed. But, will Changed Me stick around? Will I slowly melt back into year-ago-Amy? Will I slink back into patterns and mindsets I’ve kicked aside this year? Which me will show up in my marriage, in my friendships, in my work, in my parenting, in my decision making, in my day-to-day life?

I’ve prioritized things differently in my time away. I’ve been intentional. Been curious. Been courageous. Discovered my uniqueness, my gifts, my story. Put the biggies in their places.

Including writing.

Making this here post the hardest thing I’ll ever write.

Not because its content is vulnerable. Not because the process feels awkward this time around. Not because I’m short on time and capacity. [It is. It does. I am.]

This is the hardest post because it represents that crucial first step of Changed Me dropping anchor. My harmonizing, chameleon-ing, passive, comfortable self defaults to sliding back in as expected, showing up predictably, not making waves, not drawing attention. And that is not the path of writing. That is not the path God has started me on.

It’s frightening for me to show up changed. And writing this post today is a commitment in that direction. It’s the first pour of concrete that Changed Me isn’t going anywhere. That Changed Me won’t morph back into same me.

This posts says “I will finish what I’ve started.” Today is my chance for an easy out and I’m not taking it.

Deep down, I rejoice, because the changes inside me (including writing) have brought life to my soul, life I never before knew. The rest of me makes excuses and wonders why I would invite anything new into my already full life. But, the depths are right. This must be. Commitment is hard. Different is a risk. Change is necessary for better.

With each piece I write, another bit of concrete will be poured on the dwelling of Changed Me. Changed Me is here to stay.

6 thoughts on “The Hardest Thing I’ll Ever Write

  1. I love your Changed Me… Way to go!

    I feel the struggle too when I want to bring new patterns back into old circumstances. But I also know that the changes in you from this past year were at the core. I’m really glad you found the time to write even in the middle of our chaotic living situation!

    Your Changed Me rocks!

  2. Yes, yes, YES! Stay with the Changed You! I’m sure it will be tempting to slide back to the old normal. I’m glad for your resolve. The Changed You has too much to offer us AND the personal blessings are great! Keep writing! Love you, Amy!!

  3. I love Changed Me. But I know, too, that change in the midst of transition can go the way of the world and dissipate like so much smoke in the wind. I’m proud of you for getting this out. Proud of you for recognizing the challenge you’re experiencing. Proud of you for persevering through the difficult. For not giving in to same old me, who wants you to be stuck in a rut. This is awesome!

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