Monday, April 28, 2014


So perhaps we write toward what we will become from where we are. -May Sarton

I have often asked myself why I write. It sounds like a simple question, but it is not an easy one to answer.  Recently I read May Sarton’s, Journal of a Solitude and was taken by the above quote.  I think it gives a partial explanation of why I am driven to write.  A born perfectionist, I am awfully hard on myself. Self-centered or co-dependent I blame myself for more than is necessary.  Constantly I strive and reach for more.  The chatter in my head defines my next tasks to work on.  Exercise.  Meditation.  Yoga.  Positive persona.  Fake it….you’ll make it.  Too much.  Too fast.  I realize I am not that perfect mother, that perfect wife that I dreamed I would be.  I cry.  I complain. And I notice all the dust bunnies on the floor and I am too tired to bother.   Sometimes I write to escape, but mostly I write to understand.   Who am I and who will I become?

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