I miss writing. I haven't done much of it lately. I told my husband over the weekend that I missed writing... I told one of my dearest friends... and so now I've told you all. I miss it. Last year around this time the writing got harder. It felt like either sink or swim, and I was sinking, so I chose to grab hold of a life preserver knitted with books and sobriety and yarn and a new business and a move. My arms weren't ready to extend and pull with the water.
And I left the writing behind.
Not fully.
But enough to make me think to myself - no, I'm not a writer anymore. I don't want to be.
But I do.
So I lift up my heart and prayers and ask for some sign, some hint to let myself explore the creativity that longs to come out... the inner dialog that keeps me company throughout the day and never stops.
Rumors of Water is read. My heart towards the process softens.
And then Heather writes about a writing link up. Freewriting. And I know that the words are begging to come to the surface again.
So I write.
{thank you Heather... linking up with Heather's Just Write... hope you'll do the same!}
