Glacier National Park 2010

Friday, September 7, 2012

Mr. Sandman....Where Are You?

It's late....at least for me. My day starts so early that by 10:00 p.m. I'm usually in bed beginning to drift off into sleep. Not so tonight. Oh I'm tired....never doubt that a week spent working with children while battling my ever present companion, fibro pain, has left me exhausted.  But sleep eludes me. My eyes grow so heavy that I just know sleepy time is on its way. Funny thing is my mind can't seem to reach that quiet place.

The thoughts tonight are as random as my ramblings! But mostly I envision my students bent over their journals writing...some hesitantly, as if unsure of which words to use in order to paint the verbal picture in their head......others writing quickly, full of purpose....and I feel a warmth steal over my heart.  I've been in that place, in a classroom with a teacher coaxing the imaginings from my mind onto a sheet of paper.....somehow validating the part of me she gave me courage to share. Who knew all those long years ago that I would be in the teacher's shoes? It is humbling to think that I have the opportunity to inspire, encourage, enable young writers to put their thoughts into words......words that are in turn humorous or poignant or illuminating.

At  the age of thirteen it became easier for me to write my feelings than to speak them....so I began keeping a journal.  I've kept journals off and on through all these years......writing has always helped me to work through things.....a way to "talk to myself".....and always my writing was private and personal. At least until I began this blog........putting my writings "out there" for anyone and everyone to see has been one of the scariest things I've ever done. But it has also brought me so many blessings.

I think that is why I enjoy helping others find a way to release their thoughts, their imaginings, their ideas, their musings...... in some ways its my way of saying thank you to my eighth grade English teacher, Mrs. Henri Craig, for opening the creative writing door for me. Oddly enough I've never worried about whether my writing was 'good' or whether anyone else 'liked' what I wrote.  For me, writing is akin to breathing.....and we all know how important breathing is to life.

 I don't write in order to achieve accolades but there are times, I confess, when I wonder if anyone is affected by reading what I have written.  Is there someone else out there who has experienced or felt the same emotions I write about? Whether or not I am ever privy to that knowledge will not deter me from the joy I find in writing.

And now I think it is time I try, once again to sleep.

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