Back in the fall I interviewed a man who started a nonprofit dedicated to saving a piece of grasslands in San Diego’s east county. We spent the day bird watching. It was the first time I viewed bald eagles in their natural habitat. He said something that day that stuck with me. When I mentioned how blessed he was to do what he loves he shrugged and said with a laugh, “This was my dream but at that same time I say, be careful what you wish for.”
I remember thinking how odd his comment was. Right now I am doing what I love. I have always been enamored with writing, always. Even before I knew the alphabet I sat in my bedroom with my stuffed animals and had them act out elaborate plays. Eight months ago I didn’t comprehend his statement. I am starting to get it. It’s an odd thing when a love becomes your job. uddenly writing is work and it’s losing some of its charm. During the winter I went through a serious writers block. It was relentless. Whenever I am feeling incredibly depressed I have had an outlet in my writing. This time, I didn’t have that. Those two months were the loneliest months I’ve had in a long time. But…I got through it. Now I am trying to find the balance of doing what I love without turning it into a chore. I refuse to be one of those people that later in life says, “Be careful what you wish for.”
