Why I choose to keep writing

Rustic treasures of parsley green and golden hay 

Beautiful colours from the ground below 

The Meadows edge beside the river 

These spaces I have come to know like the back of my hand, or the flower scribbles I love to draw on paper, or the first signs of spring time in the morning mist. 

These spaces have offered me a voice when I so desperately needed to speak up or share my heart out loud. 

These spaces have connected me to kindred souls. 

Yet, for a while little now I have questioned whether it's okay to write, to create, to take refuge amongst the light and the enchanting things. . .  

And then I remember that I write for my self. 

I do not need permission to be myself. 

I create my day and build a path that feels like home, so wherever I go I can feel secure and amongst comforts. The same is true of my writing. 

All of my life I have struggled to speak up. But with writing, I can.  I can say, no thank you with greater ease. I can say, that isn't right. I can say so much more than I can face to face. 

Perhaps that's why I choose to write, because I need a little extra narrative beside me, to muddle on though. 

Perhaps we've all got something that has more than one purpose in our lives. . . 

🌱