The beauty needs to be honored.

I am having the urge to start writing again. Which seems strange somehow. As if that part of my life had slipped away and I wasn't expecting to see it back again. Someday I will understand the cyclical nature of writing, of life. I can go months without wanting to feel pen on paper, or watch my words appear on the screen. But then it's back and I am writing everyday.

For me, there is a distinct emotional and physical feeling associated with the desire to write. A certain state. A certain thoughtfulness. Pondering. As if I am trying to process something somewhere. Remember something. Mark the moment. And it is not quite the case that things are processed through finding the right phrase, the right word, the right sentence. It is happening somewhere else, by some other means. Below the surface. Outside.

I think I feel as if something is shifting, somewhere. The beauty needs to be honored. I need to remember. To be translucent and resonate when touched. A renewal.

Hmm.