When I sit down and talk with friends and family about what our favorite books are, I am always amazed by the fact that the list is a growing and ever changing one. It’s not a stale list that has the same favorites that it always had, it is something that is living and changes as often as the world revolves around the sun. And I like that. Who wants to talk about the same books, every day, for the rest of our lives? Isn’t it amazing that things like this are living and they are always changing?
I was giving some thought to what is constant in my life and life in general. At this point (and isn’t that funny when I say at this point because that in itself goes to show that this wasn’t always the ‘contstant list’), I’m a mother, a wife, a writer, a Civilian government employee, a daughter, a sister, and a pet owner. There are a ton more, but I won’t drag that on. The point that I was trying to make that even this list of constants, changes. I wasn’t always a mother, for example. But the second that I became one, you can be that the order of priorities in life changed, and even the job of being a mother is an ever changing one because your kids don’t stay the same age forever. (Ohhh, if you could pick an age, what would it be?)
Applying this school of thought to my writing, the lesson that I get out of it is that my writing changes every day. And thank the Lord for that. If my writing was the same as when I first started (back in high school), things would be pretty bleak for me. I can start everyday fresh and even if the previous day all I wrote was caca, I can begin again and work through that to something even better. Or who knows? Maybe what I wrote before isn’t that bad, and just my inner critic was yelling at me because they are jealous?
Have you been getting bogged down by your inner critic lately?