I've never taken the time to write much. I read. I write down quotes, lists, reviews on books I've read but I've just not written much. But this year, actually the last few months I've had so many thoughts about embarking on this new life that I've often thought of starting another blog. But, there again, I just haven't taken the time. I usually can't imagine that anyone would want to read what I have to write. Now I'm beginning to understand that I don't need to write for anyone else to read but I do need to write to chronicle the feelings and thoughts that I have for me. Just for me. When I think back over my life I wonder if I've ever done much for me. How sad is that to reach 57 (almost 58) and not have done much for myself... I'm learning. I'm changing. As I told Randy not too long ago, I'm enjoying being a little selfish. I'm enjoying doing things because I want to do them.
So the biggest hindrance I have for writing is myself. And can I do anything about it? You bet I can...
You write beautifully, my friend. I read something once that said there are only two things you need to do to write: 1.read and 2. write. With all the literature you have soaked up in your life it is already there: begin. I am so happy for your new found happiness.
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