Write On


This morning I read that the difference between a writer and a non-writer is that a writer writes even when he/she doesn’t want to do so.  Lately, I haven’t wanted to write.  I also don’t want to look at the whys, hows or whats of it.  I want words to flow out my fingertips, words that have significance meaning, impact.  Instead, I look at words and wonder if they say anything at all.

These are the thoughts that press down on me under a warm spring sky.  As I walk to my van pushing my just purchased groceries, I spy a small rubber band ball alone by itself in the center of some empty parking spaces.  The universe has served up a gift just for me.

Yes, I know it’s just a rubber band ball but it was the perfect gift for me today.  Secretly, I’ve always wanted one but never have had one of my very own.

I pick it up in one swift motion.  Quickly, I look around to see if the owner of this ball might be any where near.  I’d return it if an owner were to reappear.

No one.  This ball is mine.  It makes me smile.

I head for the freeway.  A pickup carrying an odd assortment of things is ahead of me.  A fuzzy yellow blanket is thrown over the top of all the things in the bed and it flaps in the wind.  The driver of the pickup is driving slowly.  I want to get impatient but it’s not really worth the investment of energy.  Besides, I like looking at the blanket flap in the wind.    I know how the blanket feels.  I flap in the wind all the time.

The rubber band ball suddenly launches itself from where I’d placed it and starts rolling around near my heels and the pedals.  I imagine what might happens if it wedges itself between the brake pedal and the floor.  I play footsie with it to get it back to safety.  I watch traffic, the flapping blanket, and my speedometer all at the same time.  Success.  The ball is in my hand.  I place it under my thigh and trap it while noting the west bound lanes of Padden are down to one lane.  Note to self:  Find an alternate route.

A feeling of accomplishment washes over me.  I find it amusing considering the fact that I’ve been chasing a rubber band ball around the driver’s area and keeping an eye on my driving.  It’s a good day.  It doesn’t really matter how I got there.  What matters is that I arrived.

Suddenly,  I feel lucky.  Rubber band ball, yellow blanket flapping in-the-wind lucky.

“Write on!” I say to myself.  “Write on!”

I am the person behind the words printed here. I write because my heart will not allow me the option of NOT writing. It has taken me half a life time to discover this basic truth, but now that I have, writing is as natural as breathing. This is where my breath takes the form of words.

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The Miracle Morning: The Not-So-Obvious Secret Guaranteed to Transform Your Life (Before 8AM)
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