I want to write

(source)

I want to write today.  I want to write something that reaches into my soul and pulls out something so pure and clear that my intent and purpose will be unmistakeably understood.  I want to write how I used to.  With the wit and wisdom and expression of my exact thoughts, inspired in that moment, revealed with sincerity.

I want to write, but with hesitation my thoughts wander.  They twist and turn without a defining point.  Without clarity.  Without vulnerability.  Without reason.

I want to write about how my heart aches for a certain type of relationship with my daughter.  The one where no frustration is present and only laughter lingers.  How it is difficult to like her sometimes, and why that is so hard for me to admit.  How she is a smaller version of myself, and oh-so-beautiful inside and out. 

I want to write about my son.  How he exhausts me physically and mentally and yet, in the exact same moment, makes my heart swoon.  How I looked at him today and saw a child. One who is grown into a body that I am not ready to see.  How I am fearful for the day when he no longer needs my help.  My answers.  My hugs.  My kisses.

I want to write about my husband.  How our life together has felt such utter sorrow and pain.  How physical ailments have possessed our days and nights.  How like all men he seems to have a wiring that completely frustrates and confuses me.  How he exudes strength in adversity.  How I wish I was like him.  Kinder, more thoughtful, more aware of those he loves. 

I want to write about me. About my need to be liked and how it hinders my every moment. Approval and regret are constant in my thoughts and how I wish they would remove themselves from my mind forever. About the courage I think I have and how at my weakest point I show strength. How I can carry myself, but how I wish I had the willpower to let myself be carried.

I want to write about this season in our life.  The January of my thoughts.  The wishing for Spring to melt the ice and snow and let the flowers grow.  How I muster through...trying to remember that I will miss the warms soups and crusty bread on a cold day.   

I want to write about cookie cutter baking and crafting and sewing and living.  How art is in the every day and my photography literally speaks to my soul.  How capturing relationships on my camera is so personally fulfilling...I cannot even begin to write what it does to me. 

I want to write about the wind, the rain, the sunshine, and just as importantly...the cloudy days.  The feelings of contentment and confusion.  How the burden of life is heavy, but the love of others help carry that load.  How I am so grateful for you.

I want to write today. 

But if I cannot, perhaps...tomorrow.