by Sarah Albrecht
This Monday I finished an intense semester. Tuesday I woke up and thought, "Ah, now I can write!" But then I looked around at the disaster our home had become, and the list of jobs I'd been putting off, and summer pre-session starts Monday and the professor already posted the assignments...and I didn't write. Not even one hundred words, unless you count this post.
However, a couple of thoughts occur to me. First, even when you haven't been writing, the desire remains latent and waiting, and I feel hopeful. Second, I could do something, even when overwhelmed by other demands. How about keeping a journal of ideas? All it takes is a second to jot inspiration down, and it will be there waiting for me too. I can also make time on Sunday to write the family history I've been working on that has stalled like my fifth grade knitting project.
Sometimes moving forward requires acknowledging that movement might be slower for awhile, refocusing, and a plan. But it's still moving forward, and I can live with that.
Or to put it spiritually to every thing there is a season.
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