The Urge to Write is Urgent

The urge to write is urgent. I guess that’s where the word comes from. Urge-ent. Never thought of it before. That came to me while I was writing, as my best thoughts often do. It’s like my pen is a conduit — the lightening bolt of ideas travel down into my fingers, onto the page, out to the world.

Is that the appeal? The clarity it brings. The sifting of thoughts from the swirling mass of the mind, to bring forth the ones that want to get out.

My pen is like a snout, digging the earth, looking for sustenance. Tugging at the roots of my past, bringing the muck with it. Muck that has to be raked through.

The soil of my soul needs to be tilled, to let the air in, to make ready for new life. The old debris removed, the new seeds planted. The old thoughts discarded, the new thoughts poking through, giving hope and new possibilities.

My pen finds them for me, as the wandering mind sometimes cannot. It’s a willing servant, a constant friend, always there for me when I need it. I write for you, I write for me, I write to explore and expand and my expansion spills out into the world and I add to it.

This constant source of ideas, in through the top of my head and out through the tip of my pen, giving birth to new concepts. Creating.

Everyday magic available to all of us who hold the pen.