When words are written. . .


. . . feelings are shared.


It is not just for the sake of writing that I write; I write also to share what I feel and to offer my opinion on life. To the elderly life is fleeting; they see it pass quickly and know they can’t hold it back. To the young life lasts forever; they are always waiting for and wanting today what will inevitably arrive tomorrow. I seem to be caught in the middle; my life is whizzing by, and yet I seem to be waiting every day for tomorrow to arrive.


It seems recently I actually thought that I was too busy to sit down for a moment. I was busy looking forward to the release of the next volume of my book, I can’t wait for my next trip out with the little camper, and I yearn to feel the wind in my face on the highway with the bike. Ironically, I had thought that I was too busy to write . I felt pressured, feeling that I had to write every week. But when I stopped writing, I felt that I was missing something. I was missing not the writing but the sharing.


My life will pass, as will everyone else’s, and in order to enjoy every minute just a little bit more, I will continue to share what I experience. I will, every day, send to you a hug with words on my Facebook page; I will, with the help of my book family, continue to create the next volumes of my little book; and I will continue to read what you have to share. It is not just to write that I am here, but also to delve into the lives of others’ thoughts, feelings, awakenings, and journeys.


We all share a world, the same world, and we all have adventures, wonderful adventures. If we kept these adventures to ourselves, our libraries and bookstores would be empty warehouses and our stories and tales of laughter, sadness, and drama would go unheard. So I will continue to write; this time, however, I will write with no pressure—not for the sake of having to but for the love of sharing.


A road is a road to all those who see it, and if you take that road you’ll know:

you may not have a direction in mind, but there’s a story to write as you go.







One comment on “When words are written. . .

  1. Lovely post, BawB, and a good reminder of why we write. Thank you!

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