I've been away on a holiday, and a very good one it was too. I spent some time with my family (I love being able to say that), ie wife and kids, and stayed with a great friend in York then we were very kindly loaned a house in Fairlie, West Scotland, on the Firth of Clyde. It was a time to rediscover an old friend and why he is such a great man, to have some very high quality time with the loves of my life (Jo, Katherine and Jack) and to rediscover a bit of the creative urge that got me into this writing business in the first place.
Jem (the aforementioned great friend - blog link is on the right of this page) is doing something about creativity - a course or something. As part of this he disciplines himself to write three pages of text a day. This seemed like a good idea, so for the last part of the holiday I tried it for myself. It was amazing, the words poured out of me, my thoughts, my feelings, images in words, things which made me laugh, things which made me think. I couldn't wait to pick up my notebook each day and make the next entry - I even bought a smaller notebook to carry around with me and scrawled thoughts in it every day. I sat out on the balcony of the flat we stayed in in York and wrote and wrote and wrote. It was like rediscovering a vocation. I couldn't wait to get back and start typing away on the PC and writing huge creative bits of this blog and start writing poetry again and and and and....
And then i came back home.
In the eight days since I've returned the only writing I've done is lists of what to do and a sermon. I get up (normally in a woozy and not entirely compus mentus manner) and help get my daughter ready for the morning, i eat my breakfast, i pray and i work, then when i get home in the evenings i watch TV or work, or go out with friends. None of this is bad, obviously, and it has been a happy week or so - but i felt so fired up last week to write and write, to get that book done which has been nagging at me for the past two years, to write some articles, to start some research, to simply sit and scribble. Where has that gone?
I think I'm going to stop now, my day is drawing to a close somewhat earlier than usual (only about 10.30pm now ) and i might do my three pages before bed, get up feeling slightly less woozy than usual after an early night and do some more writing before the day begins in earnest again tomorrow. Pray for me brothers and sisters :-)