I just returned from the Appalachian mountains where I attended a writing conference. For three days my home and classroom were a rustic lodge surrounded by ash, pine, and maple trees. Closing my eyes I can sense the peace I experienced being nestled in the North Carolina forest.
As we drove down the narrow mountain road to leave I tried so hard to take pictures of the countryside in my mind. It looked like a storybook scene with rolling lush green hills, cottage homes, and freshly painted red barns. The cows and sheep were rich colors of brown and well groomed. The clouds we followed out were perfect white cotton.
It was a magical place. In the short time we were there I found rich human connections. I didn’t want to leave.
Back home in Texas I rummaged through my files and pulled out a few writing projects collecting dust.
The pages whispered “Welcome back. Breathe new life into my words….we’ve been waiting for you!”
This afternoon I went out back and cut some wildflowers. Earlier in the spring we bought a sack of seeds and just sprinkled them by the barbed wire fence. They’ve grown in a mass of green foliage scattered with bits of color. Violet daisy-like flowers with dark centers. Yellow. Pink. Tiny lavender blooms. An orange bloom. I placed them in a glass pitcher arranged with basil sprigs.
We’ve had them growing out back all summer and I waited until they’re almost gone to enjoy them.
That’s what my cap said today. My favorite part of drinking a root beer kombucha is the cap. It has a message. That’s what it told me today.
So I picked some wildflowers, revisited my passion to write by just starting again.
What have you set aside that you love to do?
Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks.
Just decide to be bold and start again.