Rest

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It is this first sentence that is always the most difficult.

The second is difficult, too, but in a different way.

After that, the words either flow or they fall short.

I guess, what I am trying to say is, that this week the words are falling a bit short. While I don’t believe in waiting around for inspiration to strike, I am also not the sort of writer that can force creativity where there is none. In many ways, I feel as though whispering the names of my fears in last week’s post drained me. I’m still recovering from it.

And, now, I am smiling.

Why? Because the experience reminds me suddenly of my favorite author, Garth Nix, and his wonderful The Old Kingdom Series. Within the pages of those novels, there were individuals known as Charter Mages (think wizards) attempting to push back the forces of evil and chaos using Charter Magic. In instances where the battle was especially fierce, and the mage was either wounded or utterly spent, they would flee to the nearest Charter Stone. There, they would reconnect with the Charter. They would rest. They would heal.

And that’s precisely what I need to do this week. I need to find my own rock and rest against it. I need to reconnect with the things that give me strength, that inspire me. I need to let the wounds I exposed in last week’s post heal up a little.

I invite you to do the same.

Because, yes, we live despite the threat of the other shoe dropping, of mortality, of fear—but doing so is only ever possible with adequate rest and an ear attuned to what the body and soul can handle.

Stay well and, if you need me, I will be curled up under a blanket re-reading Nix.

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