Freedom to me is probably taken for granted . . .

The Concise Oxford Dictionary (the only one I actually own because I won it as part of a literary award when I was in grade 8) definition of freedom is as follows: 

1. Personal liberty, non-slavery; civil liberty, independence; liberty of action, right to do; power of self-determination, independence of fate or necessity.
2. Frankness, outspokenness, undue familiarity; facility or ease in action; boldness of conception.

I live in Canada, so I have never had to contemplate what freedom might actually mean to me. On a small scale, it means sleeping in on holidays and Saturday mornings, it means sinking into a good book at my leisure and not keeping a clean and tidy house at all times.

On a mediocre scale it means I get to choose which language I educate my children in (we chose both French & English), what activities they indulge in (hockey, fencing, swimming, diving, biking, fishing) and whether or not I should stay in my current job (actually, I don’t have a job – I’m a full-time mom & writer).

On a larger scale it means I walk down the street in relative safety. I say what I want to who I want and the only real consequence is how my moral consciousness deals with whatever tumbles out.  I have choices galore. I get to vote for members of parliament, the mayor, the local school commissioner, and express my opinions about all things political through which ever venue I choose (Facebook, Twitter, Blogger, local journals, national newspapers, or even a television station) without worrying about any type of negative back-lash.

In all, we have it pretty good here and I wouldn’t trade my home for anything. Our winters are harsh and our summers are scorching, but our social environment is a rare gem so it all makes it worthwhile in the end.

This post is in conjunction with the Blog-A-Licious Blog Tour a fantastic blog hop that brings together bloggers of all genres, backgrounds and locations. In today's hop, the blog featured before Remember Newvember is Holes in my Soles. The blog featured after mine is Life Through Lucylastica’s Lense. Please stop by and say hello plus some are having giveaways and contests. Enjoy! 

Other blogs in this tour include:

1. Sonia Rumzi - http://soniarumzi.com/

2. DK Levick - http://dklevick.wordpress.com/

3. Dora - http://peacefrompieces.blogspot.com/

4. Karen - http://britsunited.blogspot.com/

5. La Vonya - http://www.Battered-not-broken.blogspot.com 

6. Simon - http://simonmhunter.blogspot.com/
7. Jim - http://holesinmysoles.blogspot.com/

8. Jennifer - http://remembernewvember.blogspot.com/

9. Lucy - http://lifethrulucylasticaslense.blogspot.com/
10. Shelley - http://bookfare.blogspot.com

11. Ryder - http://ryderislington.wordpress.com/

12. Janki - http://janukulkarni.blogspot.com/

13. Tosh - http://totsymae.com/

14. Dennis - http://www.bryanrdennis.com/

15. Karen - http://karenvwasylowski.blogspot.com/  

16. Dora - http://blogaliciousblogs.blogspot.com/

Writing to me is an incredible adventure . . .

Today's post is in conjunction with the Blog-A-Licious Blog Tour a fantastic blog hop that brings together bloggers of all genres, backgrounds and locations. In today's hop, the blog featured before Remember Newvember is The Riddle of Writing. The blog featured after mine is Grace Elliot Author. Please stop by and say hello plus some are having giveaways and contests. Enjoy!

Join Me!


Blog-A-Licious Blog Tour

When I first saw the theme for this blog tour, it made me think of an elementary school paper I once had to write. That paper was more along the lines of “what school means to me” – but I approached the topic with the same hesitation. Writing is a personal journey of expression, and for each person, it covers completely different territory.

For as long as I can remember I have been a story-teller. As a small child, I took great pleasure in creating my own paper-dolls and then developing elaborate stories for them to enact. As I grew older, those imaginings made their way to paper. At the ripe old age of eleven I wrote my first novel entitled “Planet X”. It was only a classroom assignment but it stirred something deep within me. While others in my class moaned and groaned about creating story-lines and working on character development, I was completely in my element.

At age thirteen I tried my hand at writing a romance novel. Written on legal pads while I was supposed to be selling corn at a roadside stand, I was certain that story would be published by Harlequin teen and I’d be an instant best-seller. From there I progressed to fantasy novels and more romance stories, most of them saved to a floppy disk via the reliable Commodore 64. It’s doubtful they will ever see the light of day.

As adulthood loomed over me, I needed to become more serious, study harder and daydream less. At the time, I didn’t think I could make any real money using only my imagination and a hand-me-down IBM computer. I set creative writing aside and pursued a career in technical and copy writing. This was probably one of the biggest mistakes I made in my life. While technical writing helped hone essential skills, it sucked any ingenuity right out of me.

Fortunately, I had children – lots of them. They helped me access the imagination I had tamped down deep inside. They gave me an excuse to take time off from a nine-to-five job and focus my energies on them. Their imaginative play invites creativity to flow and I can’t thank them enough for giving me back my own childhood dreams. Now they are older, more self-sufficient, and I have started my writing journey all over again.

To me, writing is not only an escape into my imagination; it’s an opportunity to connect with my psyche, make sense of the world around me and deal with all that life throws my way.