Oh my! Allow me a moment to brush the cobwebs off my blog! You know it's been too long since your last post when you can't remember your sign in name and password! Well, here I am...I found my way back to Musings, but not without a nudge from a couple of good friends :) Thanks Di and Jonna for reminding me to take time for myself in the midst of the "busyness" of life.
Writing is very therapeutic for me. The chaos and noise that I find myself too often immersed in tends to stifle the musings within. Yes, they are always there. I can feel them--patiently waiting for a break in the commotion. Once I find that place of peace and quiet, the reflective inspiration stirs within. As I give way to the pondering of my soul, the somewhat random thoughts begin to align into meaningful prose and find their way from my heart, through my keyboard, to the blank page that waits before me. The words flow with rhythmic cadence, releasing my inner thoughts onto the written page. The phrases pour out like refreshing water from a pitcher until nothing remains. As the final drips trickle from the spout, my thoughts wind down slow and steady. The tapping of my fingers on the keys yields to silence as the conclusion is reached.
It is done--for now--until the next opportunity to express those things which stir deep inside. Sometimes bold and powerful; sometimes light with humor; but always a story to tell!
Writing is very therapeutic for me. The chaos and noise that I find myself too often immersed in tends to stifle the musings within. Yes, they are always there. I can feel them--patiently waiting for a break in the commotion. Once I find that place of peace and quiet, the reflective inspiration stirs within. As I give way to the pondering of my soul, the somewhat random thoughts begin to align into meaningful prose and find their way from my heart, through my keyboard, to the blank page that waits before me. The words flow with rhythmic cadence, releasing my inner thoughts onto the written page. The phrases pour out like refreshing water from a pitcher until nothing remains. As the final drips trickle from the spout, my thoughts wind down slow and steady. The tapping of my fingers on the keys yields to silence as the conclusion is reached.
It is done--for now--until the next opportunity to express those things which stir deep inside. Sometimes bold and powerful; sometimes light with humor; but always a story to tell!
