I realize now that I am the writer I want to be. Short stories, poems, sharing my words with friends and family and people who care to read them.
Making sense of the world, being present, letting go of the past.
What do I need? Companionship along the way. Writers’ groups, writers’ conferences. I probably would like to reestablish a daily practice, recognizing that flexibility needs to be built in somehow.
When did writing become comfortable?
I’m writing this at 6am, stretching, meditating, uncovering words, discovering meaning.
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