Darling, I am growing old,
Silver threads among the gold,
Shine upon my brow today;
Life is fading fast away.

Eben E. Rexford

Monday, August 22, 2011

Gotta Write!

One person commenting on my blog mentioned addictive behavior with blogging.  As someone who likes to write, I’ve been bitten by the addiction bug before. Years ago, when taking a college creative writing class, I became so obsessed with writing, that I was getting very little sleep. I’d climb into bed, tired to the bone, and my mind would start working on ideas for a poem, mentally editing sentences I’d written hours before, or constructing a plot for a short story.  After an hour of this, I’d slip from bed to start putting my thoughts on paper.

That was long before I owned a computer, so most of my rough drafts were handwritten  as I curled up beside a revived fire. During the wee hours of the morning, ideas flowed quickly from my mind onto the paper. I often would have to force myself crawl back in bed to grab a couple of hours of sleep before I had to rise to get my kids off to school.

One reason I’ve decided to commit to blog writing is to rekindle that desire to create, that urge to express my thoughts on paper, that need to document my existence. The process is so much easier now with a computer at my fingertips, and my time is less encumbered with responsibilities. As long as I get some food on the table (no longer my sole responsibility now that my husband’s retired) and get the bills paid on time, I have the option to choose writing over housework, writing over laundry, or writing over yard work.  If I want to spend hours on the computer letting my thoughts transfer onto the screen, I can ignore the grubby floors, the overflowing hamper, or the persistent weeds that will keep popping up faster than I can pull them.

Another reason I’m entering the already overcrowded blogosphere is that I’m terrified my mind will begin to fail me before all my ideas have been transformed into something concrete.  I have no delusions about writing the Great  American Novel or a compelling memoir. I don’t care to research a topic for a marketable magazine article. I want to exercise my brain for the sake of getting my synapses connecting and expanding.  My body is obviously declining, but I still have a chance to salvage my brain.

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