Challenge Me
The point of this blog was to unstick myself. Find an end to the drought that has dried up the plot well. But the actual point is that writing is not just a hobby, not if you want it to feel right. It's a way of life, something that should be ingrained in your soul, creating an electrical current that sparks every time your fingers hit a key or wrap around a pen.
With all the recent changes in my life, wonderful at best, there's a disconnection left in its wake. I grabbed nearly all of my roots and planted them in foreign locations, surrounded by different climates and atmospheres. I've gotten rid of my constants and lost all forms of routine. But as they say, this is growing up.
Growing up. Never would I have thought that growing up meant losing a part of you that used to be an essential part of your essence. Leaving it untended to and unnurtured meant leaving something so necessary to your core. But it's a slow reaction. Other distractions come in, take place and set up shop, so it's not so bad at first and you can go a long while without realizing that it's a problem. Until one day the hole becomes so gaping and wide that you can't ignore it. You can't hide the fact that you let your surroundings change you so much that you've lost a significant part of yourself and shame on you for calling yourself a "writer" if it's been so easy for you to forget.
Until one day someone comes along and challenges you. Shakes you out of your stupor and says, "We're going to do whatever it takes to reconnect you. To fill that missing part you've neglected for so long." They grab you by the hand and use their strength to pull you out of the hole, and state, "I'll join you."
And it was as if I was waiting for someone to say that all along, to tell me that it may seem lonely and daunting, but they'll be there with me so long as I start the way.
So we will be starting the way, this Sunday, November 11.
Follow us on this journey and see what we find out.
With all the recent changes in my life, wonderful at best, there's a disconnection left in its wake. I grabbed nearly all of my roots and planted them in foreign locations, surrounded by different climates and atmospheres. I've gotten rid of my constants and lost all forms of routine. But as they say, this is growing up.
Growing up. Never would I have thought that growing up meant losing a part of you that used to be an essential part of your essence. Leaving it untended to and unnurtured meant leaving something so necessary to your core. But it's a slow reaction. Other distractions come in, take place and set up shop, so it's not so bad at first and you can go a long while without realizing that it's a problem. Until one day the hole becomes so gaping and wide that you can't ignore it. You can't hide the fact that you let your surroundings change you so much that you've lost a significant part of yourself and shame on you for calling yourself a "writer" if it's been so easy for you to forget.
Until one day someone comes along and challenges you. Shakes you out of your stupor and says, "We're going to do whatever it takes to reconnect you. To fill that missing part you've neglected for so long." They grab you by the hand and use their strength to pull you out of the hole, and state, "I'll join you."
And it was as if I was waiting for someone to say that all along, to tell me that it may seem lonely and daunting, but they'll be there with me so long as I start the way.
So we will be starting the way, this Sunday, November 11.
Follow us on this journey and see what we find out.
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