Feeling Good
Got sloppy this morning. I need to tighten up my routine. I’ve been up ninety minutes and I’m just now sitting down to write. In my defense, I had to chase a raccoon away from the cat’s breakfast dishes. That was out of the ordinary. Usually, they come at night. Maybe the rain is changing their habits. Of course, I also piddled around with the crossword puzzles, took my meds, fixed my coffee, and wandered outside for a bit. So, it might just be a sign of my rewired brain brought on by too many short form videos.
Still, I want back in the habit of the early morning word fest because it tends to soothe my soul. And I want to be writing free of what my audience might think although why write if you’re not thinking about an audience. The author’s conundrum. In the end, you have to be willing to accept that no one might like your words and that you’re left to fill the urge to create in silence and a void. In a way, it’s just like love. You can offer it, but even if it’s rebuffed, it still feels good to have loved.