I’m writing this post on the evening of Memorial Day, as my
holiday weekend winds to a close and I’m switching gears for my work week to
begin. Hubby is in the living room watching another one of the numerous
military movies that have been running this great weekend. The black and white
ones are his favorites, like “Sergeant York” and “Best Years of our Lives” to
name just a couple.
At present, I’m hot, sweaty, and exhausted because—like so
many people on a three-day weekend with glorious weather—we did yard work.
Back-breaking, I-don’t-feel-guilty-for-missing-my-morning-workout,
this-is-why-we-had-children yardwork. I have to give the kiddos credit… while
shoveling fragrant mulch was not high on their list of fun things to do, they maintained
a good attitude for the duration, and there were only a couple “are we finished
yet?” whiney moments.
Yardwork was apparently the weekend plan for a lot of
people. A trip to Lowe’s Hardware today for potted plants proved as harrowing
as going to the grocery store for bread, eggs, and milk when there’s a winter
storm threat. I nearly laughed at my hubby when he questioned whether the store
would even be open. “But its Memorial Day,” he explained.
Memorial
Day. A day to honor those who have died in military service to our country. To
observe the freedoms we enjoy as a nation, bought and paid for by the lives of
men and women in the service. Like other holidays, which are also meant to observe and honor
and celebrate those who have sacrificed. Mother’s Day to honor the sacrifice
Mothers make for our families. Father’s Day to celebrate the contributions of dads.
July 4th to observe the historical importance and sacrifices made
for our country’s independence. And Jesus Christ... He gets two holidays!
Holidays are special days, yet there are so many other days we declare to be “special”… so many meaningful
and self-shaping moments of our individual lives… And most of them stem from some form of sacrifice, of self
or of others. In a moment’s clarity, it made sense to me that these
sacrifices—these hardships that we face and overcome, even on a daily basis—are
what make us who we are. And these sacrifices can be both monumental (the birth of my children and thus my foray into parenthood) as well as routine (When I bite my tongue instead of yelling at hubby for leaving the toilet seat up).
These sacrifices make us better people. To be forged in the kiln of hardship makes us stronger, not weaker. And, when my children whine about having to haul another wheelbarrow of mulch and my knee-jerk reaction is to say “It builds character,” I am actually speaking a profound truth.
These sacrifices make us better people. To be forged in the kiln of hardship makes us stronger, not weaker. And, when my children whine about having to haul another wheelbarrow of mulch and my knee-jerk reaction is to say “It builds character,” I am actually speaking a profound truth.
Except to maybe a masochistic few, yardwork is hard. Its
tough, its exhausting, its physically taxing. But the end-result is worth the
sacrifice we make, and not just because we have a pretty yard. Even though we
may see it as simply superficial, routine, keeping-up-with-the-Joneses (or even
a passion or hobby), yardwork strengthens us, physically and mentally. We gain a sense of accomplishment from it.
It “builds character.”
Now, I am by no means
saying a day’s struggle of yardwork is on par with the sacrifices our military
makes for our country. I’m simply saying sacrifice comes in all
shapes and sizes. Being a writer is also a sacrifice. How many hours of sleep
have you sacrificed because you were in the zone on a scene? How many cocktail
napkins have you sacrificed because a storyline popped into your head and you had
nothing else to write on? How much of your heart do you sacrifice when you
finally put your book out there and someone trashes it?
On the positive side, sacrifice builds character, which is
good because I need the help figuring out my characters for book #3. And every
writer I’ve met is a character him/herself! So, as an industry, we got LOTS of character!
Which means we’re all making a lot of sacrifices for our art.
I want to end with a heartfelt (if belated) thank you to our
military, and the sacrifices they make each and every day. Then I want to ask you,
what sacrifices do you make for your writing?
A great post. I'm trying to think of sacrifices. Sometimes there is sleep that doesn't happen, and sorrow when things don't go well, and inner panic when I'm blocked.
ReplyDeleteI would imagine deadlines cause some sacrifice. Or more panic ;-) As self-pubbed, I can move my deadlines around as needed, but I would guess yours are a little more set-in-stone. :-)
ReplyDeleteGood post, Ava! I couldn't agree more about yard work being a sacrifice--I would almost rather have my gums scraped than weed a garden. But I do it because I like the yard to look pretty. As for writing sacrifices--I keep a lot of late nights because day time is for other people's books. So sleep maybe is what I sacrifice or maybe even, down time in front of the TV--I don't do much of that...
ReplyDeleteI loathe yard work. RadioMan loves it, so I leave him to it...and the plants and trees thank my black thumb for staying away. Great post, Ava!
ReplyDelete