It’s that lovely in-between time. The rush before Christmas is behind us. New Year’s Eve has yet to arrive. The temperatures (in my part of the country at least) range from just below to just above zero. What more perfect time to snuggle in and write?
I’m not talking about writing resolutions or promises to yourself that you’ll probably break — that you know you’ll definitely break. I’m talking about journaling in a lazy, hazy sort of way. Pondering. Musing. Meandering. Wandering. Wondering.
I’m talking about picking up your favorite pen or paint brush, tablet or laptop, and simply letting go.
I’m talking about exploring that story idea that’s been niggling or listening to that character who has shown up in your head. I’m talking about letting her ramble on and on and on gathering companions and conflicts as she goes until you get a glimpse of where you both might be headed.
I’m talking about putting this in-between time to good use. Good. Quiet. Inward-looking. Use.
I’m talking about savoring the sweetness of this unhurried time. About being in the end of December. About deepening into the womb of Winter, shedding what’s served its usefulness, and resting.
And, I’m talking about writing it all down.