Burdens? What burdens? I refer to reading and writing. No, don’t scream at me! I use the word with complete honesty.
There are most definitely times when both are, to me at least, very burdensome. Sometimes, with reading, it’s the sheer volume of books I want to read, and have available to read. I’m a slow reader. I savour the written word. That means that I may be really looking forward to reading something but either I’m already reading something or I’m in that dreadful limbo, where I simply haven’t the energy to read anything. That limbo! Cruellest of places for any avid reader. It may be the result of poor health, simple tiredness, or having finished a book that has had a profound effect, making it impossible to select something new (or old) to read. The only way to deal with the limbo is to weather it.
The burden of writing is rather odd for me. I cannot and will not work to a deadline. I may set myself a target, but such things are very flexible and I feel no shame in failing to meet such targets. So where does the burden come from? Simply knowing that I have a work in progress! Or, to be more precise, usually several WIPs. Such knowledge can weigh heavily. It doesn’t matter why things aren’t progressing as they should. It suffices that they aren’t. I feel a degree of guilt for every day that passes without doing something towards those WIPs.
These burdens are just that, and make me uncomfortable. However, I would not be without them for the life of me! Oddly, I feel an immense pleasure in their existence. The need to create, or to luxuriate in the creations of others, reflects an aspect of myself that I am, in all humility, proud of. I love the fact that I am creative, that my imagination hasn’t been worn down to non-existence by Life. I also love the fact that I have retained an appreciation for that same creativity in others. This may sound peculiar but, I feel a great pride in others and their achievements, and often feel the need to share my enthusiasm for their creations with others. It’s almost as if I have adopted them as family members. So I am willing to pay the price for such feelings. If I must sometimes feel burdened, then so be it. It is, after all, a small price to be paid.