I am a writer. As such, it makes sense that I would write something. Preferably something other than grocery lists and to-dos. More than emails and thank you notes. To be a writer, of course, means to write something.
Honestly, I’ve never stopped writing. I just stopped writing for me. And now there’s no one else to write for; I find myself at a loss for a subject.
There is so much yet to do before I can settle into my new life, but I have resolved to take small first steps back. To work those creative muscles that have been dormant, waiting for inspiration, energy and time.
My brain will catch up. Once I realize that I am free, once I truly feel my time is my own, once the peace settles upon me, the sparks will fly. I will create. I will write. For now, however, I need to practice and you, my dear ones, are my crash test dummies.
So here it is: Something.