Here I sit. In the coffee house. Drinking a strawberry smoother. And yet, I am in the midst of a battle. A battle to write.
Each single letter which proceeds from my iPhone keyboard is a victory. Every sentence is one more success. Every paragraph celebrated.
Sometimes my insides are dead. There seems nothing left in the well of my soul. There is a vacancy, an emptiness.
In these moments, it feels like I may never find the words again.
But I know also in those moments I am compelled to engage in battle. I need to overcome the demon of resistance. To go to war with this emptiness. Almost to refuse it.
To sit and wait for letters to fall out, words to form and paragraphs to to be pieced together like a big jigsaw. And eventually, what began as a drip of water in an endless desert, becomes a stream, then a torrent, then a tsunami of words pouring forth, spewing over the page – or my phone, in this case. Unleashed, to do their work, without prejudice or fear.
And they never end. They create new streams, new rivers of themes, ideas, and possibilities, which will remain open as long as they are unexplored.
The Journey is just beginning.