Here is what came to me this morning:
When you accept writing as what you are supposed to do, after you've tried everything else--marriage, hippiedom, traveling, living in Minnesota, or New York, teaching, spiritual practices--there's finally no place else to go.I may be technically homeless and unemployed, but in truth, this lull between traveling and teaching is a gift. There really is no place else to go but to write. I have been running and running from it for years. I sat down and wrote a novel six years ago, and it is collecting cyber dust. The Universe has granted me this quiet time to write, to edit, and to submit (both literally and spiritually).
Goldberg goes on to say: You can't depend on its going smoothly day after day. It won't be that way.
This is also good news. Rhythms may vary. Life continues to happen all around us. Rain storms. Deadlines. Doctor's appointments. Keep pushing. Keep writing.
There is no place else to go.
Thank you, Natalie.