When I try to explain to friends and co-workers why I write, the meaning is lost. Questions such as “Aren’t you too busy?” or “You should be relaxing instead?” are often asked.
The answer to question number one is absolutely. This is my first blog post in almost five months due to an insanely full schedule. I work full time, attend college (only 5 classes left before I graduate, yeah!), am married with two children, have a three-year old granddaughter, and a brand new granddaughter born almost two months premature, but doing wonderful.
Why do I still write? The answer is simple: I have to. Writing is like breathing. Without the flow of words I choke. So, I find time (or make time), no matter what the distraction.
Today’s distraction is an intensely cute puppy chasing my fingers as they fly over the keyboard. I also have my sweet little granddaughter asleep on my chest, her breath rising and falling in rhythm with my own. But, still I write. Lost in the beauty of both natural creation and artistic bliss. Writing is life; the air I breathe; the food that fulfills my soul.
There is always time to write, and some of the best work is born from our distractions.