The one when I discover I am a writer…

 

Two very useful things happened yesterday. Firstly, whilst having a chat with a lovely woman I have come to know through her fortnightly Reflection Room meetings, the subject of what I do for a job came up. I gave my usual ‘patchwork quilt’ / ‘Jack of all Trades’ response. She wasn’t bemused, as most people seem to be, at how chaotic that sounds and pushed me a bit further around what I enjoyed about the work I do. Later, as often happens, thoughts popped into my head whilst I was walking… she had talked about listing your criteria for ‘work I enjoy’ and then overlapping that template to any opportunities that come my way - so I stay on a path that aligns with my values. 

What popped into my head? Well, I started to ponder why I have left jobs I care a lot about (and am good at) and what came up was because one-to-one meetings with people on topics that are either personal, conflicting or have the possibility of being tense take all the shine out of the role. So I leave to avoid that discomfort. For example, when I was a pet behaviour counsellor I worried about meeting the owners, and possibly having to deliver news regarding what might have got them to this point - but loved delivering the solutions and writing the reports. When I worked in marketing for a veterinary practice, I felt awkward around meeting the staff in each practice to deliver a change of focus from the partners, but I really enjoyed writing their newsletter or articles for the website. In HR, I don’t look forward to grievance hearings or investigation meetings but I enjoy gathering the facts together and writing the report. And so it goes on.

This epiphany was enforced during a meeting last night of Soul Circle (@BethKempton). I have no recollection of how this membership came under my radar but there I was, on a Friday night with 200 other people, a lit candle and a notebook. (If you were there last night, you will understand if I say I am my notebook took me there…) Anyway, Beth said ‘you are all writers’ which initially took me back - a part of my mind scoffed and said “ well you aren’t,”. But then I realised, I am. We all were. Why else would you join a writing group.

As a little girl, I wrote books on nature and stories about terrible family holidays (mostly based on fact). I have three degrees, so writing essays and research reports comes relatively easy to me. I have always loved an exam ( assuming I have revised) because my superpower is I can think and write quickly. I have two published books and numerous magazine articles (on rabbit behaviour), and a piece of research coming out soon on the meaning of grief to pet owners. I have written a diary before bed, every day for the last 40 years. I was an early adopter of twitter - and loved the 140 character challenge it presented. I start the day writing three pages before I look at my phone - often just a rambling to do list, but still… I used to have a blog, now I have moved here. I write for people in one of my jobs and I read through people’s words for another.

So, I am a writer - but how did I not realise? Is it because I hold writers in such high esteem? Maybe my criteria of writer as ‘one who has a book deal and does not do other work’ is a little off…?

Does this resonate?