Sometimes

Sometimes it's easy to write. Like my last post. I just started writing and it all just sorta flowed out. No thinking about what to write; no taking a break to collect my thoughts of what I wanted to say; I just sat down (albeit in the beautiful warm sunshine) and wrote 'til writing was done. Other times, though, it's hard. You just sit. Sit and stare. Sit, stare, and wonder why nothing is coming to mind about what to write, why nothing's in your mind, why nothing is appearing on the paper. So you wait. Wait for inspiration. For inspiration to come in a wonderful way and lift your pen right out of your hand and start writing on its own: beautiful, amazing, wonderful things. But nothing happens. Try as you might to will the pen to distribute its ink around the page in the form of exquisite artistry, nothing happens. So you get frustrated. You know you've written things before. You may have even liked things you've written before. But the thought floating around your mind is "You've done this before and it was easy. You're trying it now and it's not easy. Why keep going? It'll be easier some other time." But you don't want to write some other time. You just somehow know that you've got something to write, something important, something other people should read. But nothing comes. So you just start writing - writing nonsense. It doesn't matter what it is - the first thing to flow from your mind, down your arm, to your hand, and through your pen, you write. It's gibberish. Gibberish and meaningless words, all jumbled together on a page. Eventually, though, you write long enough and a pattern starts to emerge. A series of words, of musings, of ideas, all growing, meshing, joining together to become a single thought. You begin to recognize the shape, and begin to build on it. What started as a useless group of words has become something you can relate to, something you can share, something you can be proud of. And you realize that after all that time wasted staring at that page, believing you had nothing to say, you had it. You had it all along. You wrote. You didn't put it off 'til another day. You put down in words words hidden under the jumbled surface of your busy mind. And you realize with a start: you're a writer!