I am not much for New Year’s Resolutions, as would be 2/3 of Canadians.  Go figure.  It appears I am in good company.  However, two specific people, friends of mine, have unknowingly inspired me to write.

That is, to write again.

Without making much ado about this, shoving fanfare to the side (for if I should coddle this little dream,  I might never remain resolute about my goal): I have decided that the theme of my work-life thus far (this school year) has been ‘enabling teachers and students to lead writer-ly lives’.  Thus, it becomes my personal goal to renew this long-standing promise to myself: to become a better writer.

To live what I preach.

To write my heart out, and to become the writer I have always wished to be.  Leading by example.

To be writerly, each and every day.  Or, maybe every couple of days.

I am not  the next Jodi Piccoult, everybody.  Sheesh.

So tonight, friends: I write.  I write about persistance.  For it is not enough to persist when one has experienced failure.  One must also persist when one has experienced success.

Five years ago, I experienced moderate success with my little blog, pursuitofajoyfullife.  So much so, almost three million readers have logged on, to date.  I am actually astounded that people still read the entries, as I have not posted anything for nearly a year.

This is incredible to me.

At first, I thought my little blog about joy was my ticket to fame, fortune and falalalala.  You know how it goes?  Go viral and life as you know it will never be the same?  I really thought things would be different and that all would become as I had imagined it.

It did not.  Actually, nothing really changed

Here we are in 2019, and I have gone on one, single speaking tour in those five years.  I have been on the radio a couple times.  I have co-edited a book for which never even had a launch, not to mention, I have never even owned a copy of such.  And I have all but abandoned this crazy little blog, which I yearly pay good money to have serviced by a fancy tech company.

Failure?

Nope.

Motivation?

You had better believe it is.

So then.  I am getting my butt in gear.  I have spent the past four months lighting beautiful fires in classrooms all over West Prince, loving my work as a Literacy Coach.  I have been so inspired by the students I have worked with.  It is these amazing writers who give me inspiration to reignite my own passion and fire.  I have been so encouraged by the chats I’ve had with teachers about students wanting to WRITE instead of go out for recess, it has moved me to pick up my own proverbial pen again.

These students are loving writer’s workshop.

Imagine that.

But I would too, if I were in their shoes.  It is the best time of the day.  Hands down.

You see, writing for me is otherworldly.  It takes me somewhere in my mind and releases me.  Frees my spirit.

Makes me whole.

I think it has the same power with the young writers I interact with on a regular basis.

That is why, when a friend told me at Christmas time while standing together in a beautiful living room decked out in Christmas-finery, that she had recently filled three hand-written journals with pages from her life: I felt a pang of jealousy.  Only momentarily.  And then I felt motivated.

I could do that too!  I could write again!  It could be my new thing.

So, here I am.  Writing at 11:03 p.m.  And you know what? I feel…amazing.  This feels awesome.

It feels right to be writing again.

So, here we are.  Together.  You and me.  Writers and readers.  Companions, of sorts.

Going forward into this fresh new year, ready to see where the writing will take us.