Gift To Myself

A few weeks ago, I had the pleasure of catching up with a sister of mine. More specifically, a sorority sister I have not seen in a decade. She was in town very briefly, so I made plans to run up to Tulsa to see her. We, the four Coghills, met her at a pizza place where two other sisters of mine would later join us. After we arrived, sweet Beth asked me, "So, what have you been up to these last 10 years?"

I started with the normal responses. I got married, transferred colleges, got a degree, started having babies, and started taking Jillian to speech therapy for her unilateral hearing loss. Once I got to the part of having babies, that's when the conversation ended on my part. While it was so good to talk with her, and the other sisters once they joined us, I just felt a little out of place.

This was not at all the fault of my fellow diners. They were all very sweet, gracious, and fun to be with. I was just feeling very low on my end. Even though I think being a SAHM is just as much of a worthy occupation as having a job outside of the home, I felt like there was very little I could add to conversation. Honestly, aside from my day to day chaos, I realized I don't really have any hobbies. I barely have any interests. I don't even have a career goal in mind. As much as I love living vicariously through my friends, I was starting to feel like I was lost. Where did I go? Where am I hiding? How do I get myself back?

I thought a little about these things during dinner. I thought even more on the drive home. As we neared the end of the turnpike, I finally to Phil how I was feeling and what I was thinking about. Once I bounced some stuff off of him, I decided I would tell my parents when I saw them in person.

When I imagine my life, I think of what brings me the most joy. That is, aside from my marriage, family, children, etc.

If money didn't matter, I would want to write poems and short stories. {Heck, if it paid a tiny bit, that would be even better!} Even if I had a full-time job that paid me, I would still want to write. I can even pinpoint the moments in my life when I struggled with processing things because I wasn't writing.

I'm not unrealistic about this. I know that going from wanting to sing professionally to writing poems and short stories is like going from I-don't-want-to-make-much-money to I-don't-want-to-make-any-money-ever. The most that will probably ever happen is getting a poem or two published in a journal of some sort. That is perfectly fine with me.

For my birthday, my parents gave me some money so that I could get a few journals. I bought a big one, then two pocket-sized ones to carry in my purse. This way, I can jot down anything that pops in my head. {Now the Notes app on my phone can have a rest!} So far, I have already written two full poems, and the first song in a cantata I want to write for church. {Long story}

I am beyond excited about this. Not only has it been fun, it has really settled my soul. I feel lighter almost! It feels like I'm finally being honest with myself.

I also bought materials to learn how to crochet as a birthday gift from my folks. That is a story for another day...