Is not trying. Sitting still. Choosing fear over failure. Being untrue, it goes on and on. Instead, take the time to do the work and find the pleasure in the simple act of writing, the music of the keys as you unlock the mind, the spirit. Make something that will last.

Each day these memories fold over on themselves like pages in a book. A leaf here from a day we didn’t want to forget, or a lock of hair. Because we don’t want it to be over, we want to hold on to these special times. But when I’m reading entries from the past and growing attached to them, I get reminded to put it down and go be outside, enjoy the afternoon before it’s gone.

Categories: Memoir

Tags: inspiration, writing