Funny, Covid started two years ago, and although the worst of it has passed, our writing group, like so many other events in life remain in that small electronic box.
The last years I haven't written much. I have plenty of excuses. Lots of them. I pray that these excuses will dwindle in the coming years.
The writing group remains my link to the world of writing. Well, I suppose I have other threads that tether me to this world, but mostly, my memories of this life and the web in this part of my brain sometimes seem to be withering. One of the many excuses I have for not writing is maintaining the plants in my yard--flowers from my grandmother mostly. I am grateful to have these flowers bloom in the Spring. But as they bloom, parts of me seem to wither.
The writing group reminds me that I have a life that many others do not. Often, before I log on for our writing group, I wish for more time to prepare my notes for the writers and want to remember the terms like I once did. Always, after we finish with the little square, electronic session, I shut down my computer, have a quick conversation with Randy, and sigh.
I feel liked. Appreciated. Respected even.
The people in the writing group seem to appreciate my feedback and value what I have to say.
This feeling lifts my heart and warms my soul.
And I remember that a part of me is not a slave to a corporation, a part-time gardener, and all of the other duties that take up my time and turn into the excuses keeping me from writing. Even if I am not actively producing writing, I support other writers in their work and get to talk about writing.
This is something for now. Something pretty good.
I look forward to meeting our small group in person for a Spring gathering. This time brings hope and encouragement to my heart.