I have a confession
My blog name is Three, and I didn't want to write my post today.
Actually, that's not quite accurate, I wanted to, but it just wasn't coming to me. I started several entries on a variety of topics, but by the third or fourth sentence I would hit a brick wall. In truth, I've felt this way about a number of writing projects recently, and it's extremely disheartening. Writing is something I usually take solace in. I love the catharsis of the process and the clarity that comes from my "written Voice." But my Voice and that clarity have been hard to find for a while.
I'm hoping there's some quick fix, that I've lost my Voice to boredom, or sloth, or too many sweets (I blame the sweets on the fact that the giant heath cookies are the only edible thing sold in our cafeteria at work). I might just need to tweak something minor, and I'll find it again, waiting for me with a new trove of stories like the ones we used to tell together, my voice and I.
I'm scared it won't be that easy though. That my Voice is like a neglected friend, who is tired of carrying the weight of our relationship, and has decided it's not worth the effort. I'm willing to change though, and I'll do whatever it takes to coax my voice back into my bosom where it belongs. I'll write it fairytales and sonnets, I'll sing it lullabies and hymns, I'll use it. I will put my Voice to work, if it will only come back to me.
So please little Voice, come back. We have so much work to do.
