Having spent most of last night at the ER watching my son endure the pain of his illness, I crawled out of bed this morning hung-over from no party, dreading the fast-approaching hour of work. My son was ok, but I was exhausted. I had no energy left to write, my spirit depleted and beaten down.
I wanted to find a deep dark rock to crawl under and hibernate… for a year.
I had every best excuse to forget my deadline, to retreat and fight another day.
Somewhere under the scalding shower spray, I found my fierceness again. Like trees forcing their way towards the sun on a storm-battered cliff, words started to coalesce in my mind, beatiful words for just the part of the book I’d been stuck on.
Life wants to grow!
I can always find a thousand reasons why I just don’t have the creativity to write. And they will always be true.
But I will not submit. I will not back down.
I write in defiance, standing in the driving wind and howling back at the storm.
I write to create beauty and life amidst desolation and despair.
I write to fling blazing sparks out into the darkness.
We can’t just fight the battle. We have to pick up our swords and charge in with everything we have, without a thought for whether it’s a winning battle or a losing one.
How do you find your fierceness?
tadKershner 