Inertia....ohhhh, woe to inertia!

Howdy people. I'm back, in case you were wondering where on earth I'd disappeared to. The last couple of months have been mad hectic. I was taking a part-time engineering masters course, and suffice it to say, I didn't even have time (or the thought) to run a comb through my hair. A lot of people at work thought I was going for a 'fro. Others started calling me Kramer (from Seinfeld). With all that work, writing has just been a synonym for wishful thinking.

Alhamdolillah, though, the course is over. I've been on a three-week vacation from my part-time masters. My parents are visiting, and I've been showing them around New England. Things have slowed down a little from the blinding clip they were at recently. In this more relaxed environment, I've gotten a little more time to think...and I don't mean chin-on-knuckles pondering. I mean the relaxed, backburner type of thinking. I have ideas simmering in the back of my mind, and from time-to-time, I check on them to see how they're doing, adding a dash of spice or a stir of the ladle if I fancy.

So what are those ideas saying? It's simple - the more I think, the more I'm convinced that I simply want to write. I want to write stories, novellas, blogs...you name it. Eventually, if I'm good enough, I want to try my hand at getting published in the US. I know I want to do this, just as simply as a child knows it wants milk (or you know when you want to take a leak...whichever analogy makes you happy). Not that I want to quit engineering. Quite the opposite - I want to earn from engineering, and have writing be my hobby...my money-on-the-side occupation. Engineering is my daily toil...I want writing to be my escape. I want to plunge into the ravines flowing in my mind...explore them...see what worlds I come out into.

There is, however, one tiny thing getting in my way...

Inertia.

Man, how I despise the damn thing. Sure, I convince myself that the only reason for not writing is lack of time. I spend nine hours a day working. My mind feels like mush when I get home. And on top of that, I have to take masters classes - do you have any idea how hard they are? If I told you my weekly routine, I could easily lead you to believe that I'm a burnt-out, overworked sap. Of course he wouldn't have time for writing, you would say. But somewhere inside me, in the no-man's land that theologians call "conscience," a sage shakes his head at me and clucks his tongue in disapproval. You see, I can't hide from him. I can convince the world I don't have time, but I can't convince myself, because he's always there to remind me otherwise with his head-shaking, tongue-clucking, annoyingly self-righteous attitude.

As you can see, I'm slightly frustrated.

Anyhoo, Insha Allah enough is enough. Enough of inertia. Enough of the sagging guilt that accompanies it. Enough of being shackled to the ball-and-chain of my own whims. Classes start next week. Let's see if I can get through this next semester without giving up my dreams.

May Allah grant me will...