Writing has become important again. I hadn’t realized I’ve been craving the exercise. When I’m running, when I’m doing dishes, when I’m falling asleep, words I want to write down are on my mind. Writing them down, in the right order, feels good. Nourishing.
I haven’t written much in the last 10 years. I haven’t made space for it while deep in the bowels of corporate America and while raising small children. One of the greatest surprises of quitting my job has been discovering the joy I get from writing. Or rather, discovering it again.
I’m also aware that this craving fades if it isn’t exercised. With my kids home this last week and my fledgling routine disrupted (particularly by the pee accidents), I haven’t had much time or quiet for writing. And the words that were bumping around in my head, that I needed to write down, started to fade into the background.
You know when you’re fit enough that you *need* to go for a run? How your legs get twitchy and achy, and you crave that washed clean feeling? And then, if you ignore it for a couple of days and don’t go, that twitchy feeling eventually recedes and you’re (mostly) comfortable sitting on the coach.
The exercise of writing feels like that. It feels good to write. But if I don’t have time or attention or quiet, the craving fades, kind of like my twitchy legs can become used to inactivity.
I wonder what other cravings have faded into the background while I’ve been consumed by full-time work and raising babies. What else of me is emerging as I pay more attention?
