Time to Write

One of many inspirations to write: A cry - our land is sacred

I thought Canada would give me more time to write.

It did.  But not doing anything – and actually being able to write – if prolonged – may be a scary reality for a new immigrant.

Canada affords one many pleasures, like exploration of its many parks and walkways, or the comfort of its libraries where one can read and browse at his own leisure, or the contemplation of an oak tree losing all its leaves in winter, or of the snow, dainty and pristine, falling in all its innocence when the warm winds has failed to turn its specks into rain.

But one does not have the pleasure of time.  A newcomer cannot sit back and enjoy his new environment fully because being a new immigrant brings with it a host of responsibilities.

Like finding a job, and getting a job.

And no matter how one enjoys writing, or contemplating, the discordant noise in his head does not make it the perfect condition for contemplation.  Yes, one can still contemplate, but the voices could be dark and sobering.

No, I do not regret not having enough time to write, because it means I am using my time for something else, like work.

And yet I yearn for that time too, to sit down and write, because now I only have to snatch at it and find my voice beneath the many other voices that speak of things I must do.

I know there is a balance somewhere, and that I must find it, as I have found it before and reveled in it and all the things I could do.  In my old life.

But change has crept in, and I was the agent of that change. I could only bend and not break, and sway with the winds through the passing of time.

Maybe I will find it again.

Article and photo by Issa. Copyright 2009-2012.
website: www.YouWantToBeRich.com
email: issa@youwanttoberich.com

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