Finally, some rain!

Not rain as in the kind that falls from the sky, mind you. That would be pretty much impossible while our temperatures continue to hover around three degrees in the "heat" of the day. No, I speak of the welcome rains that bring an end to a period of drought.

My blog has fallen silent for far too long lately. Going too long without a creative outlet is like a drought. The effects aren't necessarily obvious at first, but they become more of an issue the longer it endures.

I suppose it can be a good thing to be so busy that I don't have time to write.

It can also be a bad thing.

It's far too easy to get caught up in the press of things that we think need to be handled right now. Sometimes the time crunch is legitimate. At other times, though, I think we allow time to control us rather than us taking control of our own schedules.

There are some things that are so important that they are not negotiable. For example, my boss pays me to work a certain number of hours each week and he should reasonably be able to expect that I will adjust my schedule to accommodate that. Other things, though, are not nearly as important and I could probably easily set them aside for another time.

For me; writing should probably fall into the first category, but far too often I allow it so be set aside for seemingly "more pressing" matters.

Sometimes it's hard to keep that in perspective.

Writing is therapeutic. There have been many times that I have written without the intention of anyone ever reading it. It is those times that my fingers floating over the keys is merely intended as an outlet for some thoughts or feelings that are, and will forever remain, private. Other times I write with the knowledge that I will ultimately hit the Publish button to send my writings into the cloud to be read by whomever stumbles upon them.

Lately, not only have I not been writing for public consumption; I have not been writing at all. The longer that drought continues the harsher its effects. There is, hidden somewhere deep within me, the urge to write. There is an old saying that there is a novel within each of us. I'm not aspiring to be the next Harper Lee with her one great work of literature, but it would be nice to spend a little time writing each day - a little time feeding the creative need.

Yet I keep letting it slip; pushed aside by the mundane.

Thus began the drought.

The effects were not obvious at first, but over the course of days my mind began reeling with ideas for blog entries or thoughts to share. The longer it goes on the easier it becomes to feel so overwhelmed with ideas that it seems easier to just ignore it than take the time to decide on a topic and begin the work of fleshing it out.

Today, though, I decided that it was time for some much needed rain to end the drought. Time to renew the habit of taking a few minutes to write - a few minutes for exercising pretty much the only creative skill I have.

A few minutes of therapy.

I still love standing outside in the midst of a summer storm. The rain that brings an end to a dry period seems even sweeter.

It was a joy today to stand out in the rain.