Truth be told, my relationship with writing seems to be quite strained these days. In all honesty, it’s more strained than it’s ever been. Life has been fine, but I find that I lack both patience and focus these days. My attention span is short, and my energy is low. Lately, writing feels like yet another task to squeeze into my chaotic list of things to do. It bothers me a bit. Writing is the love of my life, yet I’m giving it the runaround. “Sorry, Journal, I just have a lot going on right now. I need some space. It’s not you, it’s me.”
I have certainly neglected my journal before, but I’m not sure it’s ever been quite this bad. Usually, I come running back, bringing all my baggage and drama with me. And my journal foolishly takes me back every time.
That’s it. That’s all. It’s fine.
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