I don't think I have held onto a activity as long as writing has held onto me. And I do hang on. I cling to the dream of writing even when days turn to weeks and weeks into months without a word put down to page. I dream of my characters while I sleep. I think of my stories in passing, when something I've seen or heard during my daily life reminds me of my fictional worlds. These moments are like shinny bits of hope to me and they accumulate like stars in broadening night sky. I know my writing is with me, even when I am too busy with my everyday life to look up and relish it.
Do not get me wrong. I do love my new job as full time Mommy, wife and old home fixer upper-in-chief. But my writing.... My writing is what I claim for me. It was 'me' long before Mommy, Wife, homemaker and even social worker. I have always taken my writing for granted, like one does the stars in a night sky. I have pushed through my days, allowing myself to be contented by my occasional glances at the writing world. And you know what? Its not enough for me anymore.
I resolve to write.
I need to. Or I will always doubt my resolve to accomplish all the other things I need to be.
