I love the writing of writing.
Even before my love of photography or my interest in all things computer and then Internet, I loved writing. I was that girl with four journals, two notebooks and random scraps of paper stuffed here and there; each contained a thought, a poem, a moment, my words. I wrote to write. Non-stop. I got in trouble in both middle and high school for writing when I should have been listening. I wrote all the time.
Now I write for various reasons. Writing pays my bills. Writing heals me. Writing is fun, is hard, is challenging, is easy. Writing is an escape. Writing grounds me. Even though I have other passions — my photography, reading, cooking, sleeping, reading others’ writing on the web — I return to writing when I need to settle down, refocus. I come back to writing when I need to reevaluate where I am, where I’ve been and where I’m going.
It has taken years for me to settle into the fact that I am, at heart, a writer. I’m many other things as well, but I’ve always been a writer. As I continue on this journey, I am finding it most important to remember that what I love about writing is writing. Even when the deadlines loom and the new prospects are scary and the race is hard — I love writing.
[Are you participating in NaBloPoMo? Let me know! I’d love to stop by your posts this month.]