The 8 Signs Calling Me to Write

This is a story of returning to myself. This is my story of answering the call to write.

Spring 2016: At an icebreaker for a team development workshop, the facilitator asked: “What would spend six months doing if time, money and skills weren’t an issue?” I responded, “Take a sabbatical, live somewhere in nature and write a book.”

That was my “someday” idea. I’ll do it someday. When I have time. When I have the means. When I have something to write.

Spring 2017: At the end of “The Crossroads of Should and Must” article by Elle Luna, she writes: “If you feel a knot in your stomach because you can see the enormous distance between your dreams and your daily reality, do one thing to tighten your grip on what you want — today.”

I felt what I’ve since called a pained longing. I opened my journal and began to write.

Fall 2017: I registered for the do it yourself course, Find your Voice and Tell your Stories, with Jennifer Louden. Six weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. And the course went unopened and untouched. It wasn’t the right time.

Spring 2019: My brother-in-law passed away from cancer at age 45, less than a year after he was diagnosed. In the eulogy, my husband shared:

He put his heart into being the guitarist in a number of bands… I also believe that what gave him some level of acceptance is that he lived a full life. I wonder if there was a certain level of satisfaction with all that he had accomplished and experienced, which could have made it easier to let go…

There was no someday for my brother-in-law’s creative endeavors. This was a core part of his life for decades. Outside of his day job. It woke me up. Why was I waiting for someday to write instead of making it a part of my life now? For the rest of my life.

Spring 2020: Jennifer Louden wrote to her email list serve end of March 2020, just after the Covid lockdowns began: “Please hit reply if you have ideas about how I can serve you during these coming weeks.”

That’s when I remembered I had purchased the “Find your Voice and Tell your Stories” Course. I knew that’s what I needed. I slowly worked my way through it while having a toddler at home.

Fall 2020: Reading Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert, I paused and reread the following quote: “This I believe is the central question upon which all creative living hinges: Do you have the courage to bring forth the treasures that are hidden within you?”

I felt the pained longing. Which was becoming more familiar to me as my desire for writing began to surface.

Spring 2021: As I read Tara Mohr’s blog “How I got my Voice Back,” my heart ached, so heavy from the pained longing.

When I read this sentence, I could barely breathe: “What was missing from my life during those seven years was not just writing but everything writing practice gives me…”

“Everything writing practice gives me…” Yes, that is what has been missing in my life.

I had recently discovered, within Tara Mohr’s Playing Big course, that I had been resisting the call to write.

What specifically was missing from my life? The richness and aliveness I feel when I’m in connection with my writing. The self-expression and self-discovery. The meaning making.

Writing brings me into wholeness. Into a deeper and fuller relationship with myself, with the world around me and with all of Life.

My heart called to me: “Answer the call to write. It’s time to share your voice.” My deep deep longing was to come back to writing. My heart knew that to come back to myself, I must write. It is part of how I live a fulfilling and meaningful life. It is one way I want to make an impact.

The armor of the pained longing surrounding my heart began to break free. Underneath, I felt the tender hurt of my complicated and inconsistent past relationship to my own writing practice.

I knew I needed to find a different way. As Tara had shared in her blog post: “I had to be willing to do it for the love of it.”

How could I have a nourishing relationship with my writing?

Summer 2021: While the “how” question still loomed, the right answer came to me at the right time: Jennifer Louden’s Write Now course.

When I started the program, I began writing a draft of an article called “How to Find Possibility.” I wrote it in second person: in the perspective of my current self, who has found possibility, as a letter to my past burned-out self.

When I went to revise the draft, I noticed something was missing. It wasn’t working. I put it aside and wrote other pieces. Towards the end of the program, I read it again and instantly knew why it didn’t work: I was hiding.

Second person allowed me to dance around and mostly omit my own story. It no longer felt like my experience but broad advice. Scared of the vulnerability that comes with sharing my story, I had muted down what made it authentic. I had glossed over my journey.

I rewrote How to Find Possibility in first person, sharing my story, and it came to life. Now it felt true to me.

I thought I came to the Write Now program to find my voice. But my voice has been there waiting for me, wanting me bring it out of hiding. What I was really seeking is to own my voice.

I am beginning to bring forth the treasures hidden within me. What is in me that longs to come out. The armor has begun to fall off.

My heart sings: “You are answering the call to write.”

I will no longer wait until I have more time to write. I am fitting my writing practice into my life now. As part of how I live my life. I will keep coming back to it.

I am proclaiming: I am a writer.

I have something to say.

My voice matters.