There is a restlessness within me of late that refuses to go away. I have tried to think of the reasons and come up with one as being not entrenched in a book of particular enjoyment but I know that is not the complete answer. Where is the solitude I often crave? In delving a bit deeper into my mind I realize the desire to write weighs heavily but the directions seem so multifaceted that I am not sure which way to go. I know only one direction is not the answer because there are several roads I want to travel in writing.
In looking for inspiration this evening I pulled a couple of my writing books from the bookcase. One is not just a book but a writing kit that includes a deck of cards with inspirational quotes and the quote I chose for encouragement tonight indicates I should follow what I love and it will take me where I need to go. I am not sure I'd say I love writing. It is work. However, I do enjoy the results of the process and the play of putting words together. I do love telling stories and I have many tales to tell so I'll continue to persevere. However, the question remains: where is the peace I need to find within (and perhaps wthout) so I can concentrate and spill those words from inside onto the road of life where I can share them?
Is there someone out there who has a GPS to loan?