I often find myself thinking that it’s always going to be the same thing.
When it comes to my passions and the mediums through which I express myself, I feel that I need to keep doing the same thing every day, and if I don’t feel the desire to do so, that something must be wrong. It’s been especially hard for me because aside from being an extremely dedicated perfectionist, which has it’s perks for sure, I play the violin. Studying music or another competitive field professionally is not just something you can occasionally practice and pick up where you left off.
I had been told in therapy that it’s ok, but I didn’t want to accept it. I wanted to pursue violin, because I could. A knot still tightens in my heart, a strange mixture of sadness and anger swelling in my throat, at the thought of letting other interests and talents share the stage that violin once had in my life. But its come to the point that I can no longer control it; my thoughts and ideas are spilling over and the ways that I do so just happen so naturally.
It was a late Sunday afternoon, my husband and I chatting and reading over cups of coffee, when I caught a glimpse of the book readers and coffee drinkers around us through the eyes of a writer. I keep a journal at hand; in my clutch or just carry it alone, always prepared for moments as these. When the words come, they come in buckets, and there’s no end in sight until the ideas and inspiration are satisfied and pleased with what come out. In that moment I wrote in my journal “I need to be a writer”, and it was then that it hit me. It’s not about doing what we desire or becoming who we ought to be. It’s much deeper and quite simpler than that; it’s about being who we are. It’s engraved in our hearts, and our deepest of parts long for it. Often we keep trying to make one thing fill the space that was meant to hold so much more. And if you’re like me, that’s often why frustration and disappointment take over.
For a time I thought that when I healed from depression that I would lose this view of life; that I would lose my touch of writing and my creative mind. But I have learned it’s quite the contrary. Often on my drive home from a therapy session or amid the simplicity of the day, there it is and there it soars - joy, pleasure, and the intensely beautiful thoughts that follow.
I don’t need to be a writer; I am a writer. I am a painter. I am a baker and a chef. I am a violinist. I am a creative. I am not just one of these and I won’t choose just one. Each day I may express myself with one of these, or I might just use them all.
I encourage you to be who you are. You no longer have to chase after it as if it isn’t already yours, or to wish you could become it; you already are. Let the storm pass and the clouds fade. Use their strength to find yours, and then give it all you’ve got. This is you.