I find the act of writing both freeing and incredibly painful. The gift of getting rid of words that weigh inside me and letting them float and land where they will is indescribable. The process of writing when I feel I have absolutely nothing to say, that it has all been said before, and wondering if I can still do it is torturous. But, I do it, because I have to, because I need to...and somehow my world which seems banal and off kilter before I sit down to write, has righted itself and my breathing is less shallow.
I have struggled as a parent, as a wife, and most of all as a woman trying to find herself. I am so grateful for the blogging community that welcomed me into the fold, and for all the many friends I've met along the way. Six years and 8,893 comments later, I feel blessed for all of you who take the time to read, and to share your thoughts and wisdom with me.
A writer writes. It is a solitary process. If she is lucky, her words will resonate with another human being somewhere in a space where the world is wide-open. Thank you for opening up your hearts to me and for reading...
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So true! Writers write, right? That's why, when I got my masters in Psych, I didn't take the path to licensure. It wasn't about not wanting to help. It was more about not being able to stop writing. And maybe I could even help through writing. My 10-year-old has already been bitten by the bug and I'm excited for her and sorry for her at the same time. It isn't always an easy road, but something drives you to keep planting one verb in front of another until . . .
ReplyDeleteIt's been a joy to see more of your words here lately.
ReplyDeleteI'm so happy I found your blog all those years ago, and that you've kept at it!
ReplyDeleteWe dip in, we dip out, but we can never leave.
ReplyDeleteIt's good to see you back here.