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I love spring.

And spring in my state is beautiful. Just as beautiful as spring in Germany, although different (and here, it comes earlier). This is undoubtedly my favorite month; my favorite time of year.

I haven’t written much lately – anywhere. It feels like there is something missing from my life when I am not writing. When I stop the flow, I can feel myself drawing inward. Shriveling up, in a way. I become more critical of what I have already written.

Despite what all the writing books say, I still experience inspiration at times when I haven’t touched pen or keyboard for weeks (other than to communicate directly with someone). But if I don’t seize the moment, write down what has come into my mind to excite me, I will lose it. If I have an epiphany I must write about it immediately or it will be gone, like the morning fog burned off by the midday sun. Laziness has prevented me from seizing several spurts of inspiration, and I regret the loss. I know there will be more, however, and if I can begin to tap into the creative undercurrent on a regular basis I will live a much fuller existence. I know. It’s always there, like an underground river, awaiting exploration. May the new buds on the trees, the bloom of spring spur me to venture there.


2 Responses

  1. I feel the same way too; if I’m not writing, I start to shrivel up and forget how to express myself somehow.

  2. I’m happy you’re writing again, and I hope this spring will truly be a time of growth and inspiration for you.

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