Don’t we all feel like rats, ’round here at times? Well, I have to admit as a “writer want to be,” there is a huge part of me that would be totally okay with just disappearing off the grid, once these children get gone…on to school and life. I think about the second half of life occasionally.
I think about how I would like to spend it…where I might like to be, for a bit, a least. I dream of being some place where that the land, sky , sea are my only companions. Where solitude reigns…Where I could gather my thoughts… and listen to the sound of those friends, alone.
I got another invitation to help someone with a writing project today. I don’t mind. I enjoy helping. But, sometimes, I wonder if I will ever get to my goal, writing, unless I just take the leap and leave out and offer up the time it requires.
Yes, I know some folks who write at home, in the fray…I’ve done a good bit of that, and I am sufficiently frayed about here. But, the things I have yet to say, to give voice will require more and less, if you know what I mean. There is a leap a coming.
And so, as my life rattles on toward this intersection, this weigh station, I wonder, how long I can forestall the telling, will the story fade on me, grow old and tired of me? Will it wander away?
And though the things I do, I chose to do, and I love those whom I do them with and for, I wonder…