"Writing, at its best, is a lonely life."
Ernest Hemingway
Nobel Acceptance Speech
Nobel Acceptance Speech
Today I was watching several birds cramped on a small window sill, soaking up the sun. There also were birds balancing on a single vine precariously attached to the side of the house. As I was drawn into this peaceful scene, I wanted to get a picture, but in order to do so, I'd have to raise the blinds which would ultimately scare all of the birds away. From somewhere deep inside, I realized that this was simply a moment to enjoy, a form of communing with nature and not a photo shoot.
There was a time I believed I needed a particular pen or an assigned time or a special journal in order to be a creative writer. I instigated all kinds of limitations to prevent any sort of authentic progression between the pen and the page. My self-imposed false boundaries kept me small.
Random ideas float through all of our minds just waiting for us to grasp one and create an authentic expression whether in writing, painting, dance or music. Instead of being inspired, we use our creativity to form a story of all the reasons we just can't do it right now. Not the right clothes, not the right people, not the right tool, not the right weather, etc ... We repeatedly talk ourselves out of our own creativity.
We are all so busy and so disconnected from our true inner beauty, we do not take the time to unleash our passion. Some day ... when my career takes off, when my children are born, when financial security prevails, etc ... Will we ever follow through?
I have learned that if I have five minutes with a cup of coffee, I can write. If I have a full day with a computer, I can search through resources for supporting material. If I am surrounded by others, I can truly listen with an open heart to catch key phrases or disclosed emotions. I no longer wait for that perfect moment, as every moment can be perfect!
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