Sacred Writing Time

Everyone has a favorite activity that they consider sacred. An old adage states that when you “work for what you love, the money will follow later on.” This is my sacred time: writing what’s in my heart and mind without strings attached. And the bonus is that there are kindred souls that find themselves able to relate to my humble pieces of work.

Here I am, working for the thing that I genuinely love for 10-12 hours per day. Before sleeping, one will expect that I will feel tired after reading a few hundred pages of an author’s raw manuscript. But even nosebleed Peewee and technical Frose did not get to me. I still look forward to that time in the night–  just a tad moment before going to dreamland– that I get to write my own words. I sleep less to make time for writing, but that’s my sacred moment for myself. Possibly the only sacred moment that I can call my own in the 24 hours of a given day.

An editor can write but the work is still not his. Even if he labors like crazy for months on end just to shape things up, in the end, the author still has the liberty and the byline.  I love editing; but never a day shall go by without me wanting to write something somewhere, apart from that dream job I so persistently persevere in.

Whenever I look at my old writings, I laugh. The winner is my fourth grade diary where I wrote everything in pencil and even had a lock to keep my mom from reading about my crush and what I ate for lunch in La Consolacion’s canteen. My old styles reek of garbage. But that matters little now. Those tiny efforts to sustain the writing gene within helped. It all paid off now in most aspects of my career. That is why I encourage fleeting writers to keep on. My posts in the not so far past, say, 2004, are hideous compared to the ones I get to write now. But it is in passing through that little hideous phase that I got to slowly but surely climb the rungs of the ladder of improvement.

For your sacred passions, GIVE YOURSELF GENEROUSLY. Make time for it.

When we don’t want something, we do not get to muster the guts to make time. We will always, always be busy with anything and everything.

It’s important to make time for what we find sacred, what resonates in our hearts to be the thing that truly matters, and what feeds the soul and body so that it can dance more gracefully even in the hard bumps and grooves of life.

Find that passion. Cultivate it. And your entire being shall dance as you do it, making you one with the whole wide universe. Like I feel now, and each of the few precious minutes at night that usher me sweetly into my soft bed.

If I were to liken my writing to a punctuation mark, it’s a period for the “sentence” formed by the entire day… It marks the end, and when I don’t write anything by nightfall, it’s as if reading an unbelievably long sentence of a writer or philosopher: meaty in fact, but hard to breathe and incomplete.

And there will always be sentences for as long as I have days in the hourglass of my fleeting life.

My words shall be like flowers that adorn the garden of my flourishing writing skill. All glory be to God for the picture perfect scenes that words can paint. He deserves only the best in all things.

(Thank You Lord. Happy Immaculate Conception day everyone!)


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