Wednesday, November 26, 2014

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I decided to write today.

How long has it been since I last wrote?

I don’t have the exact number of days. Maybe two years? Closer probably to three years… It doesn’t matter, I guess… but the fact remains that I have stopped writing for quite some time.

Why?

Why did I stop?

I once wrote because I was alone. Solitude brought loneliness and loneliness prodded the mind into places dark and forlorn. The written word kept me occupied, gave me a sense of self. Without it, I’d have succumbed to other vices or worse other thoughts…

So writing for me, before was a welcome release, a creative distraction if you wish.

But I found a place to belong. I found someone.

Someone who gave me a place. Loneliness was chased away and replaced by love and family. I found my soulmate, had a son, had a daughter…

Writing didn’t have a place anymore.

Or rather, I did not need the solace of writing anymore…

My wife wanted me to write again, and I smile whenever she asks. Sing, I said to her, and I will write. For she used to sing… beautifully, I might add. But she stopped singing. For the same reason I stopped writing. So we left it at that.

But today, I am going to write again.

Why?

Is it for keeping the emptiness at bay?

For the same reason I wrote before?

No.

Not those reasons.

You see, I had a session with someone today, someone who told me that I am breaking apart piece by piece. Not that I would die; it is not something as bad as that. Rather, that this mortal shell I inhabit is more fragile than I expected. Some thoughts… dreams of the future, so taken for granted by most people are getting further away from my reach….

I realize now that more than ever, I mustn’t squander the gifts that God has given me. There is a reason for everything under the sun.

I might not be able to run with my son someday. Even now, I can barely keep up with him. There might be a time I cannot throw my daughter in the air and catch her. Even now, holding her tests my limits. I want desperately to be able to do those.

I might… or maybe not.

There are things I might not be able to do.

But there are also things I can do.

And one of those things I can do is write.

And so I write again…


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