A girl and her dream

My friend Beth recently posted on her blog about choosing a word for the year. I am quite infatuated with words and have always had one playing in my head like a record that can’t stop looping and I find said word popping up in most of my conversations. Last year’s word was without a doubt surrender. This year’s word is purpose. Writing is cathartic, necessary and immensely personal to me. Something happens when I can resonate with the words on this page. It’s like the first note of an unfinished symphony and even the cacophony of sound the keyboard makes as I type this make me feel there is a rhythm to my life. I feel closer to my purpose when I see fresh ink. It’s as if i have given my heart room to breathe and wiggle it’s toes on the page beneath my pen. I am at the same time a frustrated writer having spent years wishing I was better at computation and numbers. As my search for purpose starts by navigating the dissonance between a calling and what life looks like right now I begin at the only place I can; with pen (or keyboard) in hand.

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