Last week marked my 4 years in this space. This fact is puzzling to me in many ways.
In the last 6 – 7 years, I’ve felt so undisciplined about so many areas of my life. I often complain to my closest family and friends that I am so consistent about inconsistency. For a few days, I am great with eating right and drinking water. Then, within a week, I give into eating a piece of cake or guzzling a coke. I am aware that I’ve stumbled and then convince myself I will be more consistent next week.
My lack of committment appears in other places too. My writing routine is not perfect. I get stuck. Writers will tell you to push through because there is really no “writer’s block.” It is a myth. Writing is simple. You sit down in the chair and just write. But that is the real rub. So much of writing is so hard. Every time I sit down to work on my memoir, the apprehension creeps into my fingers. I ask these questions: Who is interested in my story? What if no one wants to read it? Will these words be trapped on my laptop forever? What am I doing? With these fears, the consistency, well, it becomes difficult to achieve.
This undisciplined approach sometimes feels as if I am inhabiting an alien’s body. In my twenties, my committment to my ambition never wavered. I set a goal and never doubted my path. Whether it was studying essays for my political science class or working as a teller and going to the law school simultaneously, my resolve always felt so solid.
As I entered into my thirties, so much happened. I gave up my legal career. We had a little girl. I lost my father. I moved to another state after living in Texas for almost 35 years. I gave birth to my blog. I started pursuing a freelance career and my memoir. When these moving parts of my life happened I lost my footing so so so many times. When I started this blog, mourning my father’s loss overwhelmed me so much that I felt as if no one understood. I needed an outlet to channel this inconsolable sadness that I felt. This process of writing, reflecting, and remembering helped to lift me off my knees to standing. I learned, week after week, that there were others too who experienced devastating losses but were also working their way back by writing on their personal blogs. And the lessons were not just limited to loss, but coming to terms with time, motherhood, marriage, and everything-in-between.
I know that I am still trying. Being Rudri lets me live inside that feeling of hope. Hope that I will get where I want to be. Someday.
Thanks so much to all my family, friends, and virtual community that have supported me for all of these years. Your support is something I depend on and it means much more to me than I can ever express adequately in words.
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
Happy 4 years! If it’s any comfort, I suffer the same crisis of worth/purpose about my blog on at least a daily basis. But I’m always happy to come here and read your words.
Kitch,
Thanks for your camaraderie and support during these last 4 years. It means so much. xoxo
Happy Anniversary, Rudri! Congratulations on all of the wonderful writing over the years. Cheers to another four (and more) years!
Thanks, Windy. Your positive energy uplifts at the precise moment when I need it the most. xoxo
I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to stop by until now, Rudri. When I saw your link on Facebook I thought, what a coincidence that our blog birthdays are so close to one another. I can understand your overall journey these 4 years as a fellow writer and so much of this post resonates with me (as all your posts do). It’s a comfort that our blog can be our one consistency, isn’t it?
I’m glad you were able to find an outlet and community as you’ve grappled with the loss of your father. Sometimes beyond the support of loved ones it’s words and the reflection and processing that go into them that can help us to heal somewhat.
I am grateful to have met you through blogging and really look forward to continuing to read your words. It’s always so comforting when I come by. I feel we are kindred spirits in many ways and you often speak the very emotions I am experiencing.
Cecilia,
Thank you so much for your kind words. Yes, you are right, I try to blog consistently. It is a type of meditation for me to find a place for some of what is swirling in my head.
Although we have only met online, Cecilia, I know that you understand what I am saying. Part of the reason I continue to write in this space is to feel less alone. I look forward to your insights on my blog. Your words of encouragement and understanding give credibility to my voice. That is a gift I will never forget.
I am grateful for your friendship, Cecilia. I look forward to many more meaningful dicussions with you.
It’s so nice to have been here for part of your journey – blogging can be wonderful, healing therapy and a peaceful way to connect with like minds and hearts. Congratulations on four years!
Writing down my thoughts and voicing them in this space helps quiet my mind. Thank you for your support, Barbara. It is always a pleasure to see you in my space.
Happy Anniversary Rudri! I am sorry I did not see this earlier but we were away on a long weekend. I wish your journey to continue and I wish the road becomes clearer and your burden lighter. I love to read your blog and I have enjoyed our friendship. xoxo
Thanks, Ayala! I appreciate your well-wishes. Your support is something I count on and I am grateful that you’ve extended your friendship to help me through my grief. xoxo