Time to write

Here I am - living on a tropical island.

The perfect place to write.

Right?

Many writers would give an arm and a leg for this privilege. 

To spend the winter in a little village at the end of the road on a remote peninsula... Where the highway stops at the sea...
Sounds so idyllic.

And it is a wonderful place to write. A blessing for which I am terribly grateful.

However, I was smart enough to know ahead of time that living here would be no guarantee that I would get lots of things written. I know myself pretty well. I know that I tend to bite off more than I can chew. That I always seem to imagine that I will accomplish far more than I can actually pull off.

I also knew enough about living in this country to know that there is not as much time to do the things you might think you’ll be able to do. There are a couple obvious reasons for that.

First, the heat and humidity sap the strength right out of me. I move more slowly. Indeed, I often notice that I am dragging myself up the stairs to our little studio apartment. Sometimes it’s had to find the energy to do anything - let alone to discipline myself to work hard.

Secondly, the stuff of life just takes so much work here. We learned that many years ago. Yes, I know what Gershwin wrote about summertime and the livin’ is easy. But I also remember when we lived in this country 26 years ago that we quickly learned that just living is a whole lot of hard work. Everything takes longer. Shopping, cooking, cleaning up. Culture stress slows me down and wears me out. 

So there doesn’t turn out to be unlimited amounts of time to write - nor the energy to write when you do have time.

Oh, yes, there's another reason...  I also wanted to be somewhat free to make the most of every opportunity that comes with living in a place like this. I didn’t want to keep myself hidden away and miss out on everything outside our walls. In other words, I knew that I would want to spend time out there experiencing the sights and sounds and tastes and smells - even if it meant that I wouldn’t get to write as much as I might hope. 

I keep reminding myself that John Steinbeck didn’t write a single page of his book while on his actual trip across America. He just experienced it in the moment - and then wrote the book “Travels with Charlie” later. After the fact. I take comfort in that.

But still I hoped that I would be able to do a reasonable amount of writing. I planned to write regular blog posts while here in this great setting.  I had set some small goals for working on one of my NaNo books. 

At the same time I knew I would need to be patient with myself. To not beat myself up if I wasn’t prolific enough or diligent enough.  

…

So here we are. 

Half-way through our time here. 

How am I doing anyway?

...

Yes, I am writing. Cranking out lots of words and actually publishing some of them. As is rather “normal” for me (no matter where we live!) I am quite sporadic in the things that I actually produce.  I think I posted 13 times in January and only once so far in February. Like I said, that is fairly normal for me.

And yes, I have reached the first of my NaNo goals!

For once it would seem that I may have set some pretty reasonable expectations of myself for my writing output during this season.

And yes, there have times when I can’t seem to get in gear. But still I write. Still I crank out the words - and at least some of them end up being used.

…

Yes, living here takes much energy - and lots of time.

AND yes, there are those cultural opportunities that I choose to give high priority.

For example, I need to shut down my computer right now so I can get to my tutoring session.

Because you see, the seemingly shy girl who did my $11 pedi at the tiny little salon by the French bakery last week found the courage to ask me if I would teach her English a couple days a week. I was not about to turn down that opportunity. So here I go…

There will be time to write later.