Writers have an unfortunate habit of complaining, perpetually, about not getting enough time to write.  Ask us, “How’s your project coming?” and we’ll say, “Slowly.”  Read any stack of grant proposals and you’ll see us desperate not for money but for time.  It’s as though artists’ real lives reside in an alternative universe and we’re eternally frustrated that we’re here in this one.

Years ago, when my daughter was an infant and my creative space had consequently been decimated, my spiritual director probed me for my deepest longings.  Intimacy with God?  World peace?  Nope; “More time to write.”  She was professional but I could tell she was annoyed.  “Maybe these are exactly the conditions you need to do your best work,” she told me. Continue reading