Wednesday, November 7, 2018 – The Writing Season

Writing is an unfolding of what’s going on inside me as I talk to myself on a pad of paper or a computer, a version of talk therapy that requires neither appointment nor a fee.
 Parker J. Palmer, On the Brink of Everything


Dark comes early now. The landscapers have taken away a good portion of the fallen leaves and we wait for snow.

I just want to hunker down and write, but life keeps intruding. There’s always the pulling between the inner and the outer worlds. I’ll tap and scribble a few lines this morning, but that’ll be the extent of the work for today.

Broody, I wrestle with some things. I remind myself of what I learned in other dark seasons.

I pull up to the drive-through window and the aroma of the writing elixir wraps around me. It is a fitting season to hide away, drink coffee, and lean in to the intimacy of words.

Thanks so much for stopping by. I'm here early most mornings with one of my photos and a few words about life and those thin places where faith intersects.

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