The rules are simple. You type for five minutes straight and five minutes only. No backspacing or over thinking. Then, link up, read who came before and after you. It’s nice. Like paying it forward: it being a candy bar. Please give me a candy bar.
Today’s topic? Joy.
Fear may knock at my door all night long, but I know what is promised me in the morning. You guessed it. JOY. Sometimes I sit at my desk and type, and other times I stew about what to write. It all seems heavy in the moment, but since I am such a fan of nonsense anyway, it all seems to work out in the end. Like now, rambling. and door bells are ringing and texts are dinging, but I am ignoring all of it. I am typing to you people, and it’s the writing, I have decided, that brings me joy. Do you know why? Because this gift of words is a treasure I never want to lose. Writing makes my heart whole and makes me feel as if I have a voice that will carry. Even if I were using a pair of paper cups and a very long string, if I can convey it through writing, my point seems to get made more clearly. So, I’ve been thinking. Maybe I should be a writer when I grow up. At least part-time. And it’s working. Yesterday, I edited 6 chapters. Yep. Six. Then I drank a cup of coffee and started writing a new article for a mom’s website for which I write. And I wanted to end that sentence in a preposition. Because I have a rebellious streak. I should have said, “…for a mom’s website I write for, LADY.” There. That’s not a preposition.