I write because I am striving to be the Love..
I write because that same Love sometimes eludes me…
I write because the pen soothes the furrow in my brows and the stomp of my steps…
I write because it slows down the perfectionist, who doesn’t always know what’s best for the rest of me…
I write because I can sometimes show up amazingly eloquent in one line, humble in the next, and yet, impactful with every stroke…
I write because I need to turn to my Beloved every millisecond of the day…
I write because the pen alerts me when I have strayed…
I write because I am fully competent in the study of my lower self — arrogance, judgment, anger, resentments, hunger, fear… who sleep in my belly, waiting to create separation between me and Creation…
I write because I must shower those lower parts with a Higher mercy…
I write because “they” call from the other side, in the wee hours of the morning, leaving me no other option, other than to holler back, “OK! I’m coming! Lemme grab my cat.”
I write because my pen is the healing bridge between my heart and all of humanity…
I write because it is there, and sometimes only there, where I can speak, and receive,
“I’m sorry.”
Originally published at medium.com