Back in the fall I made a commitment I didn’t keep. That was to get back to my writing projects here at the Vicarage. There was a time before I became what I am now that I considered being a professional writer. I gave up working on that part of me.

The other day I was reading an artist’s blog and she was talking about how she had been out of the art scene for a while because of… life. The blog was all about how she had begun reconnecting with her talent in small ways simply by drawing or painting some small object a few times a week.

I thought, “This is what I am supposed to be doing, but I am not.”

I had to ask myself why. I have concluded that it is because I am not prioritizing even a few brief minutes to the work. I tell myself I am too tired. It’s not important enough to get into my schedule. I have too many other things to do and cannot give myself the time to even exercise my mind in this way.

In the end I realize these are all excuses. I am not too tired. I am letting laziness rule me. This work is important. It was once important enough that I considered making it an income stream. I am learning that the more I exercise my mind with healthy hobbies the more productive I become at the work of my calling, so there is no good reason not to begin exercising my writing muscles again.

These are just exercises in thinking and putting thoughts to keyboard; So last night I took a few minutes and began jotting down some words, flow of thought. The piece is below and it is about me and my father.