Life got really busy and crazy for awhile. Then as soon as it slowed down, my body slowed down even further leaving me sick in bed with a fever for a few days. Life is normal again, save for the nagging cough that’s hung around and the stuffy nose that just won’t leave, with a normal schedule and normal responsibilities. Somewhere along the “too busy to write” I also lost a lot of interest in it. Every day I open my blog site, and most days I close it without even clicking “new post.”
But today, I got up from a nice long night of sleep, went outside with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and I just sat on my porch swing.
The lawn was freshly mowed yesterday before my husband left for another weekend on the road. Friday is trash day, so a few now-empty trashcans still sit on the side of the road, waiting for their owners to come home from work. The thermometer reads 91° but in the shade with the light breeze it doesn’t seem so bad. Our American flag on the front of the house flutters, and a bee buzzes me every now and then.
I take it all in and realize how blessed I am to live in a safe, quiet neighborhood. It’s a beautiful summer day, and I’m struck with the urge to write and share it with everyone. I do so love to write still, but I can’t keep forcing myself to try to write every single day. It takes the fun out of it, and it makes it truly feel like a job. I have to want to write every day again, like I once did. Writing is something I enjoy, and there is no reason I can’t keep it as part of my career. But writing is a pleasure, and it can’t be forced or it feels fake.
I’m not here to pledge to write more often, but I am here to pledge to write as I feel compelled to do so. Life is back to normal, and there is no reason for me to continue living as if it isn’t. I need to get out of my date book and back into the world. The breeze rustling my hair told me that. And it is high time I listen.