The foibles of spring

Fifteen minutes ago I looked out my window and saw bright sunshine. Yes, there was a bit of darkness further west, but rain is expected around 10 so that made sense. I opted for a short walk. By the time I brushed my teeth and combed my hair, put on shoes and walked up the stairs it was raining! I heard it on the skylights when I got to the top of the stairs. I think it's already stopped -- but it won't be for long. I think there will be no more efforts to walk today. But -- that's ok, because we have sunshine on the horizon for the next 9 days, and some warm (80+) weather along with it for a day or so. I can wait.

I'm reading another book -- this one by Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat Pray Love fame), a non-fiction account about living a creative life. She talks about how she must be writing something or she will go mad. She also talks about not thinking or caring about how your writing is received, but merely writing for yourself. Because you have to. That's something I can relate to.

It's why I write here and on my other blogs. Because I have to. Not always, but when inspiration and need come together long enough, I have to. So I do. I don't worry about how people feel about it, and certainly not about how many people read what I write because then I'd really be depressed. My 'audience' is miniscule to non-existent. And I don't care. I've never cared, because I write for myself, because I have to.

There was a time when I had more energy to put into writing, and I was into it full bore. Those days are gone -- energy? What's that? Or, to be more precise, mental energy. I do well enough with physical energy, but that old bugaboo mental energy left me behind a good while back. Probably because I don't get enough sleep, probably because of stressors in my life, possibly because of boredom in my life. Whatever. Whyever. Mental energy is rare these days.

So this is what's left to me, and I'm thankful to have it. Because you see, I really need to write. Something. Anything.