I’m going back to writing. Back to getting my creative juices up and running. Back to living out that intricate love affair with letters, words, phrases, sentences, and paragraphs. Back to doing this thing that I honestly, well, miss doing.
Over the past days, I’ve realized just how far back I’ve buried that desire to really write. I’ve apparently tucked it into the back pockets of my heart, forgotten about it, and let dust and lint gather all around it. How and why that became so – and forgive me for rhyming here – I truly don’t know.
But do you know what that feels like? To have something that you truly enjoy doing get so overlooked that even you would forget that that thing has been one of your greatest passions since the beginning of time? It leaves a strange feeling of emptiness, an unusual sense of ache in your heart. A friend of mine asked some time ago if I wrote poetry. I fell silent, trying to remember if I did. He took the words out of my mouth. “Oh. You used to,” he said knowingly.
I used to.
While it is true that I’ve apparently just shifted from poetry writing to song writing (and I’ve forgotten that songs are still poems), I still can’t get over the fact that I was only able to answer him with that uncomfortable silence. What if he had asked me if I wrote stories and the like? Would I be able to bear it if my answer would turn out to be the same silence and the same “I used to” feeling would in turn linger in the air?
I used to write.
No way is that going to happen.
My desire to write has been rekindled. The fire has now returned. I’m going to start writing seriously from this point on – I’m starting to see those books again and I’m beginning to visualize all the touched lives once again.
I’m starting with this. It’s a 30 daw writing challenge shared by Kay Four but I’m being flexible and won’t necessarily stick to writing every day for the next thirty days. But I will write whenever possible. And I will finish the thirty items on the list. And after this, I’ll write more things and take on other challenges as well. Oh. And I’ll try to keep it interesting as well, flexing up these literary muscles that I have long underused.
Who knows, by the end of the year, I might even get a book done.
Our senior pastor released a word that this 2012 is our year to build. I agree with him wholeheartedly. There are several important things that I am set on building this year and this – the art of writing – is one of them. I’m ready to face the empty spaces head on with a trowel in one hand and a sword in the other.
So here I come, trowel in one hand and a pen – the writer’s sword – in the other.