Sometimes, I get the urge to write. I get the urge to declutter my racing mind and put it all into words. I get the urge to ramble onto a blank slate in hope that it will clear my mind even a slight bit. I get the urge to go on about something that I have more than likely written about before, but it still helps me whenever I am able to express myself again. I don’t know why I get the urge to write. But I do.
When I get the urge to write, I get the urge to stop and take a breath and relax. I get the urge to let life stop for a brisk moment and allow my words to catch up to where I am. I get the urge to believe that there is more to life than just going through the motions, like maybe enjoying a laugh with those you love or having the time to watch a movie in your pj’s at 3 p.m. on a Sunday. I get the urge to listen to music that I haven’t listened to since the 10th grade of high school and I get the urge to not only listen to the music but to understand the lyrics and how they made me feel at a certain point in time.
When I get the urge to write, I get the urge to unwind and listen to the pattering of my dog’s feet on the kitchen floor. I get the urge to reach for a piece of chocolate in my candy bowl and then maybe reach for another one two minutes later. I get the urge to pick up one of my favorite books that hasn’t been picked up in four, five, maybe even six years. I get the urge to look up to the sky in search of a feeling that can only be felt by God’s presence. I get the urge to have meaningful conversations that last up until 3 a.m. — those conversations that you know you will not forget for a very, very long time. The ones that make you belly-laugh until you end up crying from it.
When I get the urge to write, I get the urge to type and type until the blank slate is no longer blank. Instead, it quickly fills up to how it is now and you look back up and see your words and you think to yourself, wow I didn’t even think I had much to talk about. I get the urge to reread what all I have just read and it reminds me that there is more to life than my thoughts and emotions and anxiety over worldly things.
That is who I am. I am anxious. I am worrisome. I am human. These worldly things are important, yes. But I must remind myself that they do not have to be so important to the point that it consumes me. I have been so consumed by bills and responsibilities and in particular, grad school, when I needed this moment right here to remind myself to stop and breathe. There is more to life than these worldly things. They are important. But there is more. These things will get taken care of, but you need to take care of yourself and the people that you love first. When I get the urge to write, I get the urge to remind myself (and anyone else who might need to hear it) that life is important. You are important. The people that you love is important. So give to life what you have at that moment in time and continue on. The rest will get taken care of. The rest is not meant to consume your thoughts and your well-being.
When I get the urge to write, I also get the urge to share it with others. If you are one of the few who read my rambling and jumbled-up thoughts and mayhem, I hope that you needed it. I hope that it reminds you to take a step back and remember that life is meant to be lived with hope and enjoyment. There’s too many blessings around us that get taken for granted, and I hope that you remember to stop and breathe and take them in once in a while.