A Distance Within

There is a distance. A noticeable distance between myself and something I cannot figure out.  Is it something I once  held dear and forgot or is it something I have been waiting for but still not yet able to grasp? Whatever it is I know is it distant from me.

I turned to my computer, my writing in an effort to push away the things that try to distract me from this distance. Writing is the one place I am able to do this. So I write.  I see it has been a year since my last blog and truth be told a year since I visited new material. In that year I did finally get my book published and it has been a fabulous ride with Sammy the Snail. But getting a book published only means I tirelessly poured over its revisions, story lines and illustrations from a manuscript written 8 years prior. Getting published  does not mean I created anything new. I need new.

I think this idea of new is part of what is distant. I find clarity and depth in my thoughts when I write so much more than if I were to speak the words as they formed. Writing is the one place that the world slows and I get a chance to find myself in a singular focus when the world is telling me to attend to many themes. Writing to find new is important, it does not have to be the new story you hope to publish or a new brilliant idea it simple just needs to be new for the day. Clarity in a crazy world.. well that is new; Hope in a place of darkness, hey that is new!! No need to reinvent the wheel with writing,  I just need to find something new for the day. So I write.


I have been prompted to write for a few months now, but for some reason have ignored it and chosen a mind numbing activity of busyness instead. I am all too aware that busyness does not clear my mind, it jumbles everything together forcing me to fight for clarity when all the thoughts compete for my attention. What boggles me is that still I chose busyness!  So today I write. Not really about much but to get back into the routine of finding that new space in my head where things sort of make sense, where I can hold onto the hope I know I have no matter what the circumstance and where if I am really still can feel the confirmation of why I am  here on earth.

I know there is a distance.  The cloudy foggy brain waves loudly announce it, the unfinished spoken sentences exposes the gap and my lack of direction tells me I am missing something. There is a distance. A distance that pushes me away from sanity and purpose toward the all to popular "prove that you are worthy by being busy" towards the questioning of why am I even here? Towards the ever nagging doubt that I can make a difference.

So to day I write. I attend to the distance that grew within and seek its destruction all the while finding the clarity of thoughts that will fuel my work here on earth. I missed my writing, I missed the clarity and I am glad that for today I wrote something. The distance is not so great anymore!

shine on my friends
Allie