Days seemingly start to drift by very quickly this time of year. My lack of real work schedule makes my night owl sessions of reading, writing and watching late night costume dramas blend the hours of the day rather out of sync with the lives around me. My writing style is also different as evidenced by my last couple of poetry type excerpts. Relatives and friends are voicing some concern about my well being. Reassured that I am only being creative they seem to be relieved. There is a certain decorum to be kept in my writing voice, apparently. My new online readers seemed to enjoy my little spurt of eccentricity though so it may spurt again from time to time.
I’ve taken the following approach. Lay low and write. This keeps me off of committees and sometimes free of other responsibilities. Journaling about stream of consciousness helps. Reflecting through writing explains a goal process that is underway. Notes scribbled and assembled may sort themselves into an outline of sorts. Posting a blog or two from time to time is somehow a release and also a connection. I can feel the comfort of a returning thing, this writing voice, doing it’s scales and breathing exercises, finding it’s pitch once more.
Writing has helped me navigate some rough spots in life. I think everyone should give it a try, whether they think they are any good or not. I wrote for me not others, and it was good medicine.