My fingers have been itching.
They want to write again. I look at them and remind them that there’s no time to sit and simply write for the sheer joy of writing. Then I pause a moment, and wonder at what I’m thinking. No time for joy? When did that happen? I’ve always been a firm believer in making time for the things that make my heart happy. When I think about it, the urge to write has been creeping up on me and silently sneaking in.
I first noticed a few months ago when I realized that keeping a day planner was becoming one of the newest Things. Going Old School by keeping track of daily life by writing everything down on paper appealed to the Luddite in me. Decorating it with stickers, stamps, paint whatever (Just do a quick search on Pinterest to see what I’m talking about) was just the frosting on the cake. It wasn’t too long before I was the proud owner of a planner. (Ok, technically, I was the proud owner of three…I had a hard time deciding which I wanted. My plan was to stare at them for a while and return the extras.)
I had a wonderful time making my pages colorful and loud. Then jotting down all my appointments, to do’s and other lists. I made a point to reserve a small square in which to scrawl a reminiscence from each day, just as I have been doing for the last few years in a small monthly calendar. Without realizing it, I had started to write more and more until there were no more lists or appointments in my planner. Instead, I seemed to be writing a journal.
Then last month, it was time to renew the blog or let it go. It didn’t seem to matter that I’ve barely thought about my blog, I couldn’t seem to close it down. “Write,” it whispered to me, “Just write.”
And so, I will shake off the rusty feelings of inadequacy and scratch those itchy fingers by letting them write. In the process, I hope I rediscover my joy of simply writing. I hope you stick around to join me.