That Which Once Was

This is not my first blog.  In fact, I've tried to start a blog about three other times in the past five years.  All to no avail.  I suppose my issue is always subject matter.  But this time, I don't care.  I'm not following an "theme" or special topic.  I'm just writing what's on my mind.  You can read it or not.  Perhaps you'll like what I have to say.  Perhaps not.

Once upon a time, I was a writer.

Sounds like a strange thing to say.  But it's not.  I wrote my first short story when I was 10 years old an won an award for best writer.  I always knew I would be a writer.  I even went to university and received a Bachelor's degree in Creative Writing.  It was always my passion.

I liked writing anything and everything and I wrote every single day of my life.  Even if it wasn't any good.  I wrote poems.  I wrote short stories.  I wrote plays and screenplays.  I wrote in a journal.  I wrote thoughts and interesting ideas for stories and plays and movies.  I wrote and I wrote and I wrote. BTW, just for the record, I've been published, as well.

I was a writer.

But then something happened.  I woke up one day and I realized that I wasn't a writer.  I couldn't even tell you when that day was.  I just remember it happening.  And I immediately thought, "if I'm not a writer, then what am I?  Who am I? And do I like this person I've become?"

It's a strange thing to ask oneself, I admit.  But those were my thoughts and they swam through my head day after day after day for many months.  Until I just realized that once upon a time, I was a writer and that's okay.

Now you'll notice that I can't say I'm not a wr... a wri... a wrrrr... I can only say that...

I was a writer. I used to be a writer.  There was a time when I identified myself as a writer.

To say that I am not a wrrrrri... wriiiii... well, I just can't do it.

So, here I am writing.  Perhaps if I write enough blogs I can call myself a writer again.  Until then, this blog is my babbling podium.  This is the place I will come to again and again, just to say what's on my mind.  It may not always be pleasant, and it may not even be interesting, but I'm happy.  And isn't that what really counts?

A Poem - Off the Top of my Head

Another Good Day?

If I were tip-toeing through the garden

And the trees were whispering in my ear

I'd stop to dance and twirl in the sunlight

And wish for fairies in the air.

I'm not such a poet that I always need to rhyme.

Sometimes I feel my heart soar with joy.

At moments I cry when the world floods around me,

And I wish for the garden of fluttery friends

To start me dancing once again.

I am merely a child

In my heart, with years of woe.

I am mature in ways 

That only He can know.

And here I am, wishing

With my coin in hand.

Must I tip-toe tomorrow

Or will moments be passed

Swimming through it all?