Writing

I used to write. I have a bag full of half-written notebooks in a closet, the oldest getting their starts when I was in junior high. I wrote copiously in high school which continued in college, pages a day in my journal, and littered in my school notebooks. I wrote poems, mostly, free verse, words on a page. Words that were meant for me, mostly as an outlet.

I wrote my own acting piece in high school, wrote letters to those I loved on important days, wrote abstractly about what was going on in my life. In college I decided to try my hand at publishing and had something printed each semester in the literary magazine. I took a poetry writing class, and on the advice of a friend, received a minor in English composition.

When I first moved to Hawaii I was still writing a lot. But slowly it dropped off. And then a few years had gone by without a new entry in my poetry journal, and I think I was scared to start again. Scared that it wouldn't be good, or worse, wouldn't feel good. That I would be trying too hard and that that time had passed.

I stopped by the library the other day and checked out some poetry books for inspiration. I opened my journal and wrote and wrote. Nothing could feel more natural. I am home with myself once again.