I’m delighted to guest blog today on Sue’s wonderful Daily Echo. I’m sitting in my recliner looking up, wondering what to write. There’s a ten-foot long spider web hanging from the ceiling fan to the beam over my head, gently blowing with the heat circulating around the room. Tapestries of cobwebs grace the corners of the high windows that I can’t reach without a ladder. More delicate threads crisscross the Christmas star that I never took down – from 3 years ago. I kid you not.
When my grandson was 2 years old, he said the house was “spooky.” I laughed but didn’t whisk them away despite the cute commentary.
It feels good to sit and stare for a few minutes, to breathe and relax and study the floating web and the way it catches the light.
I’ve been writing full-time for seven years and blogging for about five. It’s been a labor of love, but full time has been overtime, averaging between ten and twelve hours a day. I couldn’t get enough, and I let the rest of my life slide as I immersed myself in the glory of words and worlds, the lives of the characters inside my head.
I always felt as though I was making up for lost time. A new story would begin to weave, threading through my fingertips before the last one ended. If I paused the web I was spinning would falter, the pattern altered, not better or worse, just different.
In seven years, I took a few breaks, but they were always with a purpose, something to be checked off as efficiently as possible so I could return to writing. Even vacations were interruptions. I missed entire seasons, the outdoors, working with my hands, being creative in other ways that I enjoy. I miss hanging with family and friends. I churned out 13 books.
As these last four books roll off the laptop into the world of Amazon, for once, I don’t have a new tale spinning. And it feels good to look at the time ahead with room to breathe, anticipating a taste of that elusive sense of balance I’m perpetually chasing and ignoring.
There are holes in my life I need to fill with fresh air and sunshine, food I’ve grown, people I love, a little exercise (or a lot), and some exploration. I feel a need to exist without deadlines and timetables, to read and play and paint and hike and watch movies. To spring clean away the cobwebs. And write a little, of course.
Room to Breathe
The cobwebs cluttering my corners
are the trophies of time earned
following dreams of being
making up for lost time
when life was ruled by clocks and children
mortgages and marriages
the daily commute when I wondered
Who am I?
I clutched at daydreams and made them real
spun tales through the rafters
wove stories from straw
and draped them in the windows
I grasped each moment of seclusion
like a breath before immersion
And held on.
Until the daydreams cluttered my corners
trophies of time earned
following dreams of being
and making up for lost time
new tales weave through the aging season
tapestries spun with timeless freedom
to whisk away the cobwebs
and discover in the corners
Room to breathe
Find and Follow Diana
About the author
D. Wallace Peach started writing later in life after the kids were grown and a move left her with hours to fill. Years of working in business surrendered to a full-time indulgence in the imaginative world of books, and when she started writing, she was instantly hooked. Diana lives in a log cabin amongst the tall evergreens and emerald moss of Oregon’s Coastal Mountains with her husband, two dogs, and Pinky the Cat.
Why does she need room to breathe?
Her latest books have just rolled off the laptop:
The Rose Shield Tetralogy: