Of priorities and pruning and the slow side of the story.

​If you read my last blog post, you might be thinking that my author life has been very busy and productive lately, and I guess this is partly true. But behind the scenes of these exciting opportunities another version of the story is in progress. A much slower one. One that has me grappling with the gift and struggle of how to ‘be still’ (Psalm 46:10). ​

There are a number of factors that have led me to this point. One of them is my health. I have an ongoing adventure with fatigue that ebbs and flows in unpredictable ways. Another is a nagging sense that I have a rare opportunity to reconfigure how I live and what I’m involved with. Over the past year I’ve found myself laying down various aspects of my life. From committees to writing projects, things are being gradually pruned away. I would be lying if I said it’s been easy. It’s been more of a kicking and flinging well-constructed arguments type of journey. And it’s been a bit scary too. Because there’s a lot of pressure on authors to continually produce content and build our platform (an author’s platform is the number of followers or promotional reach a writer has). There’s a sort of expected treadmill writers are supposed to maintain and as I’ve slowed my pace I’ve faced losing my place. 
Among all of this, questions about identity and purpose have been swarming. I’ve slowly realised that despite all the good things I've had the chance to be involved with and do, I've grown increasingly ‘worried and distracted by many things’ (Luke 10:41). And so, with more confusion than obedience, I’m feebly clinging to Christ. Doing so, I've realised that whichever which way I’ve turned as I've looked for answers, I’ve found the same reminder: ‘my yoke is easy, my burden light’ (Matthew 11:30). As I search for rest among various disappointments, discouragements, rejections, fatigue and failure (where my writing life is just a facet of it all), I have been faced with a reluctant necessity to lay things down.
Encouraged by Saundra Dalton-Smith's Sacred Rest, Cal Newport's Slow Productivity, various books on creativity and writing, and more, I'm paring things back. 
Am I still writing? Yes, but slowly.
Will I do author visits? Yes, but only occasionally.
​My focus for the next little while will be supporting my son at school, and working on my PhD (you can read more about my research project here). I’m going to try and give myself time and space to heal, both from whatever it is that has triggered this bout of fatigue and from the ever present pressures of the writer’s treadmill.
Part of my strategy will include taking a step back from social media. There have been many factors contributing to this part of my slowing down (caring for my mental health, avoiding the treadmill, ongoing questions about integrity/stewardship/algorithms/AI etc.). For now, I’ll leave my pages up for people to view/like/follow, but I won’t be posting  anything for a while. If people are interested in hearing how things are going writing and otherwise, I'd love them to visit this blog or sign up for my email newsletters. In a world so connected by socials, this feels like a risky move and I’m not making it lightly. But I'm trying to be faithful, seeking the 'still' among the noise. 
The slow side of my story is a clumsy, wobbly one. But I thought I'd share it to be real. ​If you’ve been challenged to slow down this year too, I’d love to hear about it.
As for me, right now... I’m off to make myself a cup of tea. And then I'll go wander in my garden to see how tall my daffodils are. Because if there ever was a reminder of the value of a slow story, I reckon they’d be it.