One sec... I need more coffee.

Seriously.

I got all settled to write & the only thought I had was, "Rats, I need more coffee."
So, I suppose I wasn't really settled.
Or ready to write.

Some days are like that.

Once upon a time, I challenged myself to write something every day, first thing, before the bustle got started.
It didn't matter what; a memory; an anecdote (I love that word); a quick, 3-line blurt of poetry; a reflection on the sunrise.
Something... anything.

I found myself writing in my head constantly. Once I started, I couldn't stop.
It was a little consuming, but my tens of followers checked in daily to see what had popped out.

Then... it stopped.
I'm still not sure why.
Maybe I got consumed. By life... & the bustle... & the negative thoughts that no one needed to read.
And I found myself becoming less & less creative in ALL aspects of my life.
I relied more on stand-by recipes than imaginative concoctions.
Fewer "little touches" of decor were showing up.
Last year, I even sort of "forgot" where all the Christmas decorations went.

And a little hole inside me started growing.
And growing.

I was no longer creative... I was... mundane. (I like that word too.)

And as the little hole kept growing, I realized that I had stopped.
Stopped growing, stopped "doing", just... stopped.
And while I had stopped, the world kept right on whizzing past me.
And I started falling behind.

I watched others keep doing, & creating, & growing.

At first, I sort of sat back & wished, & watched, & stayed stuck.
Then, without really a conscious decision, I started moving again.
Slowly at first.
New recipes started showing up.
And a new wreath on the door.
And a photograph taken at an odd angle.
And a line of poetry.

And I started moving faster, falling back in step, finding my rhythm.

It's doubtful that I will challenge myself to write on a daily basis again.
Sometimes my mind is too busy creating other things.

But it feels good... to be moving... & doing... & growing.
Again.