I decided to write for a bit and see if I still wanted to write.
The jury is out.
My life is in a different place than it was when I spilled my guts before. I used to get up and writing was the first thing I did every morning. There were remnants of dreams in my mind and children still sleeping and long days to slog through - writing was my escape in the minutes before everything else crashed me back to reality. But these days days are different.
I meditate as soon as I get up.
I check time hop and see what I was doing in years past.
I do legs up the wall and roll my feet on a golf ball and stretch my upper back on yoga blocks.
I've found other ways of space and time to help me stay grounded and present.
Writing isn't a habit yet. It's something that I keep almost forgetting to do.
I'm still on the fence.