When life gets busy, or exhausting, or overwhelming, writing is often the first thing to go.
But why is that, when it’s the thing that means the most?
Writing can be hard. It can be frustrating, or challenging. It can bring out my insecurities and self-doubt.
But it’s worth it.
Writing, and the feelings it inspires in me, make me feel most like myself. When I’m writing I feel connected to something bigger, I feel passionate and full of purpose.
When I’ve gone a while without writing, I feel lost. I start to lose track of that creative point within myself and life becomes a shade darker.
But still I don’t write.
It’s been a long time now, and I miss the sensation of my fingers on the keys of the computer. I miss the focus that comes when I put my earphones in and set my playlist of melancholy songs to shuffle.
I miss the words that spill out across the page.
Sometimes I think I’ve forgotten how to write. But then I spend a few moments alone with a blank page and it reminds me of the possibility.