Along the way I have lost my connection to creativity. I struggle to find beauty within the poems I write. Now they are often an expression of standing against things that have tried to break me. Yet, there is nothing like working on a poem until it is done. Ahh, that feeling of reading my poem and knowing it is no longer mine. There was a time I could share what I was writing with my Mum and she would help. I would then share the completed poem with my Mum. I miss those moments...
My life has become so invested in who I am professionally. I can remember the moment I made a choice. I was at my desk at work. I liked where I was working but I was getting bored. My mind would get distracted by poems that I would have to write rather than focusing on my work. I realised I wanted a more challenging job, which would satisfy what I enjoy doing professionally.
My life has since provided opportunities that I was open to. This has taken me to places I had not planned for. I have worked in another country and work brought me back again to a different state. Just over 3 years ago I embraced a new opportunity, then 2 years ago I moved again.
I have returned to the place where I started life. I was young when we moved away. Yet I always knew someday I would return to this place. Now I am living closer to family who I have known all my life. I have missed those connections.
Now I am ready to face a choice. It is time to find out who I am again beyond the place I work. What is my identity when it is not tied to my profession.
I want to create beautiful poems again. To be in the moment and to not constantly worry about what will happen at work. I need to open myself up to the next opportunity.
Writing this post is not a poem. Yet I am getting that same feeling... Time to stop. Take a break. Read it again later. Maybe then, I will know it is done.
