“It must be wonderful to write,” she said to him one day, thinking of the verses he wrote so easily.
“Well, if you really want to write, why don’t you start with a journal?” the Canon asked briskly, always ready to start something new.
“But what should I put in a journal? I don’t do anything exciting.”
“Why, everything that happens – the places you visit, people you talk to, stories you hear. It isn’t so much what you write – it’s doing it regularly that counts. And the more you write, the easier you’ll find it. Do try it!”
And I hold “Nothing is Impossible. The Story of Beatrix Potter” by Dorothy Aldiss to my chest. Such cherished words. I feel them.
Life is just that: life. But we all have it. What will I give?
Writing captures the emotion of life. It creates. It captures. It defines. When we write, we take something from this life and we proclaim that it matters. It is valuable and treasured, if not only in our solitary souls. But that is enough! And that is why I feel so alive when I write because it is me announcing:
This. Me. My heart. My life. My connection with you. My God. My creation. It matters and it is beautiful.