I’m Not Writing. Or Am I?

Mar 4

I’ve been beating myself up lately.

Don’t get me wrong. Life has been good. Actually, it’s been better than good. It’s been fairly close to beautiful. I am doing things I love to do – creating and designing and cooking and baking and encouraging and serving. But every day, as I close my eyes to grab a precious few hours of sleep, I think “another day – gone – and no words to show for it.”

I love to write. I love words and phrases, love cadence and silence all blended together. And writing isn’t coming easily these days. Oh, there are notes and thoughts all jumbled together on pieces of paper, there are partially-written moments that go with partially-written recipes, and there is a children’s story dancing in my brain, just waiting to be painted on a page. But right…

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