People write for many reasons. Whether it’s a creative impulse or a business motivation there is a drive that leads us to stamp out our little mark on the world.
I’ve always had a hunger to write. Since childhood I would wrap myself in my imagination and let my stories take flight from my pens.
Starting my first blog was frightening for me. It was baring of my everything. It was saying “HERE I’M NAKED AND VULNERABLE, IT’S A GOOD TIME TO THROW ROCKS AT ME!”
After blogging for seven years you’d think I’d be past that.
Every time I publish something I expect to feel the pain of a rock being thrown.
Since the days of my strokes and I first faced down the monster that confronted me from my keyboard, I have found a new reason to my writing.
Yes, I’ve had to find new ways to still allow my soul loose from the prison of the handicaps placed on my body.
Even more than that, the words I can type come so clearly and unmistakably. I find texts to be a wonderful way to maintain my lifelines. Emails allow me to have conversations with people with people I might never talk to in the real world.
My lips have betrayed my by refusing to keep with the thoughts in my head. The voice I was left turned on me by granting me insufficient air to give breath to the understanding in my head.
My words are trapped in my head with no way to clearly share them.
So I write them. THAT is my greatest reason for writing with the one arm that work. I really had no choice.