My favorite present came early, perhaps intended partly as a birthday present, from my youngest brother in Alaska. Here it is:
Actual size less than an inch wide - with a hook to use it as a zipper pull. It's a riff on a Hells Angels motto, and I'm delighted to have it.
I'm never quite as much alive as when I am writing, though meditation is good to do as well. Writing brings me back to a sense of being myself, irreducible, unchanging at the core. It helps me dive below the flotsam and jetsam at the surface to what lies below. I think I've been waiting for things to clear on their own, instead of pushing aside the surface distractions to reconnect with what is important.
I've been spending the last couple of days, in between things, catching up on some blogs, and being inspired once again to clear my throat and and find voice for my thoughts and observations.
Let this be my New Year's endeavor to Write Free, to write freely, to be free to write, to free up the writing.
Addendum: if any of you are particularly interested in an online writing community (fiction, poetry, and more) particularly oriented to young adults (or writers with young adult readers in mind), check out Figment. I've recently spent a couple of late evenings browsing among the posted writings, some by published authors trying out new material, and some by unpublished young writers looking for feedback.
