clearing fog

June gloom cast a shadow long and wide this month, and trust me, I was under it.
It's bright today, I'm sitting by a window in the library looking out at the way the sun's dappled light is hitting the leaves, and I'm breathing a sigh of relief. And gratitude. Not just that the sun is here, but that I'm coming out of a fog, too. It was one unfortunately born of unpredictable and unstoppable circumstances, one that tested my resolve and hope, but one that is thankfully lifting.

It's always hard to reengage with writing when I've been forced away, to find that rhythm again, the flow, the feeling that you're living and breathing your characters. But, there's also something to be said about life and experience and the ups and downs that go along with it, sorting through the emotions and finding your place among them and then harvesting all that you've learned and hopefully finding a way to channel it into your work.

That's where I am now. Sorting through it all. Sitting with it. Listening to music and allowing myself to get back there. It will happen in time. Maybe not today, but I will get back.

One thing I know, even if I don't feel it all the time, is that writing is a gift. It's a way to try to make sense of the world, a way to express the contradictions, confusions, wonders we experience. It's a way to channel all the things that I turn over in my mind, concepts, feelings, questions, uncertainties -- and most of all, hope.

Because at the end of the day, no matter how hard life gets, hope usually finds its way back in, if it ever really left in the first place.