I’m offering my dear readers a very special guest post today. My mother, who passed away in 2012, was an inquisitive scholar and voracious writer. It has been such a blessing to go back and read things she wrote long after she died.
Reading her words is like having a conversation with her. She writes so personally and with such vulnerability, and it is such a privilege to read her reverence and compassion for writing and writers.
I took the liberty of editing together some of her reflections on writing as a job vs. writing as companionship that she originally posted on her blog. Reading her words came at just the right time for me.
I hope my fellow writers out there resonate with her words as well.
For many years, I’ve practiced the art of writing, including journals, letters, written lectures, devotions, news articles, papers, and a master’s thesis, all in an effort to explore the possibilities of the writing life. I'm still experimenting with those possibilities. I have read books and thought, "I wish I had written that, or this is how I would have written it, or better yet, if I could write one book before I die, this is what it would be." Sometimes I have let reactions to my efforts derail and discourage me, but in the long run, I have always returned to the same desire: to write.
Writing as “making a living”
Once the kids were old enough to not need mom's supervision, I moved back home to Nebraska from Tennessee to complete my college degree, earn a master’s degree, and explore writing more seriously.
I love to learn. I love to read. Writing and sharing what I learn is a natural fit.
But I felt compelled to do something with the diplomas I had earned, i.e., make a living from them, even though the thought makes me laugh. Neither adjunct teaching nor chaplaincy offer a decent living wage, and I tried both of them. No one teaches for the money, nor do chaplains serve to get rich.
I trained to be a chaplain for a year to figure out what I wanted to do based on my previous counseling experiences. Halfway through my residency, I realized it was not a good fit and that I would not be working as a chaplain. Not that it was a waste of time; I learned a lot about myself over the course of the year.
I taught at the university level for four years (as a GTA and an adjunct), and I discovered that I mostly felt out of my element. Teaching at a university was not a good fit—not a bad one, just not right. Again, time was not wasted. Everything is worthwhile when we learn about ourselves, recognize when something does not fit, and are willing to change our course.
Both jobs increased my stress and pain levels, leaving me feeling out of place at a time when pushing myself beyond my limits was bad for both my body and my soul. There was time for pushing, but I needed to heal. That is what I learned. I still need to heal emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Writing nourishes my soul and helps the process.
Writing as companionship
Once I decided to stay home and write, a weight was lifted. I eased into being here in Nebraska to care for my elderly mother, despite the challenges. It all felt like a natural fit for me, even though the writer's path is not an easy one.
I just heard an author on television say that writing is a solitary life, which it is, but that writers enjoy being read and require the company of others, which is true. It is one of those paradoxes that come with the writing life. It can be lonely sometimes when I am lost in my own thoughts, but I write to find connection and companionship.
If I had to describe myself in writing, I would compare myself to Sam Gamgee, Frodo Baggins’ companion in The Lord of the Rings. Even when all hope seemed lost in Mordor, Sam stayed by Frodo's side, a loyal companion.
I cannot bear someone’s burden or walk someone’s path, but I can come alongside, walk with them for a while, or even carry them by offering written words that may help them continue forward when the way is dark and the path is difficult.
To that end, I write.
Janet Duros McClearen, M.A. (1948–2012) was a writer, Sunday school teacher, college professor, homeschool principle, traveler, chaplain, ASL interpreter, counselor, hairdresser, mother, and grandmother. All who had the pleasure of knowing and reading her miss her terribly.
So touching. Thank you for sharing your mother’s brilliant soul with us 🙏
Beautiful and resonant, thank you for sharing!