Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Time Zones

This is a small blog that's been around for many years, and I know I'm not a very regular blogger. Not one of the three times a week gals, or the everyday blogging gals (although I did blog every day in October 2011!). I'm a small-time blogger here at Fresh-Brewed Writer (and for that matter, The Chaplain's Wife), and I am okay with that. I can handle small. I can control small! It's big and bigger that overwhelms me.

So it's with no small amount of irony that I point out that the past two duty stations my husband has had have been in the two largest states in the U.S.: Texas (we were there for one year while he was in a school program) and Alaska (where we currently live). Big and bigger. Vast, amazing landscapes that both tantalize the senses and overwhelm the sensibilities. 

And now, a time zone that's three hours away from my family.

I have been reading online this morning about God-sized dreams. I'm still a bit iffy about the whole idea of God dreaming. Does He dream? I know He plans, He ordains, He destines. I think this is something I need to study more...

Anyway, I know I have dreams. Far-out-there, outlandish dreams that require a whole lot of work and dedication, which I can't seem to find because it's too big. It's too "out there" for me to grasp. I know the wisdom of goal-setting: big goals broken down into smaller ones, manageable tasks that one can accomplish and feel successful. But the big picture looms like the mountains around my home, taunting me with impossibility. With grandeur too much for my small, busy life.

I was able to achieve two small publishing successes in the past year, and while that feels great, I don't want it to stop. But what have I done in the meantime? Not a whole lot of writing. Certainly no marketing of my own writing, only for others.

When we moved here, the door to my former career was swung wide open, and I stepped through. I'm back in the classroom, this time teaching college-level composition to adults for a university's external campus (and wow, Alaska is very external!). This is a "sweet spot" I didn't even know I missed, that I feel each week as I stand in front of my students, teaching them about writing and documentation and research, about poetry and Shakespeare and modern prose. And I love it.

But it's not writing. It's not article or novel or book writing.

So I wonder, figuratively speaking, if my dreams are just in a different time zone from where I'm living.

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