November 5 question – When you began writing, what did you imagine your life as a writer would be like? Were you right, or has this experience presented you with some surprises along the way?
In 2012 my passion for my private practice in speech-language pathology began to wane, hastened by several abusive toddler clients.(!) While toddlers are prone to tantrum, these kids behavior tested the boundaries. Thus, I couldn’t help them.
It was an unfathomable situation for one who’d adored her career choice from its inception – as well as being a ’50s kid who was raised to respect adults.
What to do? How to fill the time, further, how to fill the hole in my heart if/when I closed my private practice? I was intent on maintining my purpose-filled life, inherent in a cereer that was 100% give.
And I wasn’t about to surrender the privelige of being my own boss and work for an employer again. Further, I worked with toddlers, whose pre-occupation was play…
I was paid to play, in a career in which The Hero’s Journey was implicit.
My husband and I had recently witnessed an older friend who’d neglected consideration of how to pass his retirement time, so he spent endless hours in his La-Z-Boy watching TV. I was determined that this wouldn’t happen to me. I had more self-respect than to allow myself to molder and fade away into self-sequestered oblivion.
Throughout my adult years, I’d dabbled in many hobbies, expanding beyond my childhood pastime of choice: reading. I’d tried lapidary, knitting, photography, painting, tie-dye, pottery, and many others. In fact, I’ve attempted so many that my retirement hobby list only contained two items: French horn and creative writing.
As a speech-language pathologist, I’d written thousands and thousands of clinical reports, some containing fabulous fiction to dramatize the need for an insurance company to pay for my services. Thus, creative writing was a natural choice. Writing was also a great choice – to obviate the anguish of quitting my private practice – because, if I didn’t like a character’s behavior, I could hit delete.
My husband was elated that I didn’t select French horn in 2012. You see, I most often wrote while he watched TV sports…
Writing is a silent hobby. Endlessly creative, cathartic, and easy-peasy for a word nerd like me.
That line about writing so insurance companies would pay you made me chuckle. Sad but true, right?
Hard to watch television when someone is playing a horn. Good choice.
“To reach his full potential” was the favored reason for the need for my services… not untrue, but dramatized in words = power to persuade.
Yes, that’s what surprised me about writing vs. talking. Not only it’s permanence, but it’s power…
I loved how you turned to writing after the challenges of your previous career. I was a special education teacher, so I can relate to a lot of what you said. I took a break for over a decade to raise my kids and came back to a completely different environment.
I loved how you chose writing over the French horn. And I’m with you, I do not want to be one of those couch surfers. Great post!
Thanks for the acknowledgment and affinity!
I failed to mention the additional benefit of writing… my skills blossomed and writing progressed from elegant hobby to encore career!
As someone who both writes and has, at times in my life, played the French Horn, I think you chose two of the hardest things, and writing might be easier. At least I don’t completely lose my ability to write if I go on vacation for a month and don’t do it. Unlike my embouchure, which is now so far lost in the mists of the past that I don’t know if I’ll ever pick up my horn again.
I’ve since learned that, not only are French Horns expensive (even if rented), but difficult to play. Yup, I made the right choice!
I couldn’t retire and sit and watch TV all day either. It sounds like writing was a great choice for you.
HA! I bet he was SO happy you didn’t go with the french horn.
If only people had delete buttons. Or maybe volume buttons and and a hide/block. That would make life more peaceful.