There’s something waiting.
That’s why it takes a moment to gather the pen & paper, to open the blank but expectant email page, to take the moment.
We try to get it write & get it right & get it, right?
You’ve had the words rolling ’round in your head, driven by your heart, and you know the drill: If you write ’em down, people will know what you’re thinking.
And feeling. And smiling about. And hurting about. And wondering about. And hoping about.
You thought you’d say you’re sorry.
You thought you’d kiss a friend goodbye in a note, which is always better than leaving quietly with no words, no hug, no kiss.
You thought you’d ask one last question of grandmother.
Maybe it’s time to let that love poem explode onto the page, the way love & poems do. (This is the way writing & lovemaking are most similar.)
Maybe it’s time to ask for another chance.
Maybe it’s time to sigh, take that deep breath, and put the words out there, and at the end of the day, in there.
Waiting is over. It’s time to write for fifteen minutes without stopping, whatever comes, and when done – declare that you’ve started writing the book. And put it in your appointment book for tomorrow when you write again, just like all your other important meetings – and say, “I started my book.”
You already know The Ten Most Important Things begins with “Share & heal.” This writing stuff counts – there’s no truer way to share the inside part of you. And there’s no other part of you that heals more. Heals you. Heals the folks who listen. And begins the healing for those who hear, and wonder.
There’s something waiting, and it’s been long enough, don’t you think?
Let me know how it goes. I care, and I love good writing, like yours.