On starting over…

My overarching goal lately?

To write myself free.

It’s a dreadful goal… because writing scares me.

True story: I broke up with a friend because she told me to shut about wanting to become a writer and just write already. Or she broke up with me. Or it was mutual. We don’t really know… only that it was 10 years ago… and I’m still not writing.

Writing… does something to me.

When I journal consistently, my whole life starts changing. Rapidly. I get these miraculous ideas and start acting on them and before I know it I’m embroiled in this magical new world and I just can’t find my way to the page again.

I’ve wondered if it’s because writing helps me actually process things. As if before I write about them, I’m just walking around in an unprocessed haze of impressions and feelings and it’s all totally disorganized and I want to flee all the “too muchness” of life.

… but I don’t know. What I do know, is that my greatest most secret desire of all is to “be a writer”.

What do writers do? They write.

So. Here’s one more channel for me to do that…

Not just journal, not market through newsletters, not post random stuff on social media, but just write, for the pleasure of writing, for my own enjoyment, to think out loud, to open some bridges into my wild mind and to see what happens.