If I don't dedicate a piece of my life to writing, I will continue with some small place empty inside me. It doesn't have to come together in a book (though I'd like that), or result in income (again, certainly would be great), but I need to be writing and it needs to be something that both frees me and stretches me.  This is where I've come back to every time I've stopped to assess. 

Currently to make room for family, work and home - and do them all as well as I can, I need to be up around 6am.  And adding another thing in doesn't sound plausible, nor do I feel it necessary. But my work is seasonal enough that when fall rolls around my hours will likely dip and my plan is to substitute in this other kind of work to my early mornings.

It's not important that I write any of this here, but with all of it in my heart the past few weeks I felt it time to pull out my old trusty macbook and put my fingers on its keys. They are a different click than my work laptop - accepting my hands in softer way. I just wanted to remember how it felt, see if it would still turn on and if we still had the same connection. I feel a bit awkward and clumsy at it really.

And that is the other part of what has been on my heart - what if its gone? What if I've taken so long getting to this one, most obvious piece of what I feel called to that I've sacrificed all the work I've done in the skill? I'm hoping its just misplaced and if I wander here enough this fall and maybe some of the mornings or late evenings leading up to it, perhaps I'll stumble upon all the pieces.

So this fall, I plan to write each morning.