I have not written here for some time. In fact, it has been a while since I have written on my Medium account as well. As a writer, this can be troubling, but I am learning to give myself grace.
Life during the summer months is incredibly bustling. You never know what state, or on what coast, we may be on. And soon, in what country.
Signs of fall are all around us now. The crisp air, the temperature no longer hitting 80. More days of rain, and the hints of fiery colours on the tips of tree branches. The weather is a beautiful thing here. Even our weather forecasters take delight in all the metaphors they can use when the weather gets too hot, or when pumpkin spice season is finally upon us.
I am more in tune here, but perhaps I am equally more in tune with my body, now that I have taken a year-long deep dive into all its mechanics. I can feel it asking for rest now, especially while I have physical therapy twice a week.
So sometimes, a writer doesn’t have to be a writer; we can be the reader. I still have a list of books that I want to consume. The first, of course, being Stephen King’s book on writing, and then Dostoyevsky’s Underground Man & Life in Serbia.
University also begins in 12 short days.
So here is to being gentle with yourself, being willing to wear different hats, because life is like a recursive bloom; we will return to our writing after every pause, after every study session, after every movie watched or book read, for these are the things that can fuel our creativity.
Original article: https://ladyannselene23.substack.com/p/reflections-of-a-writer