Dance in the rain.

The snow has been pounding down all day and it looks like a calendar shot. The wind creates little tornadoes of glitter across my yard. Silence blankets nature's beautiful noises, until a plow eventually scrapes through the quiet, a path, to ensure that life can go on. White deserts and mirages of summer fill my thoughts, creatively this is perfect.

Writing has kept me busy for most of the chill. When writers block rears its ugly head I fill my inspiration with good books of varying genres. Once inspired I pour words out of my pen onto paper releasing mosaics of alphabetical master pieces. The long nights spent in front of the fireplace with tea and my laptop encourages me to continue writing until my novel is finally finished. Sometimes I get so involved with the climaxes as each plots thickens, that I forget the stresses of the real world. There is no such thing as bored when you are playing in your mind.

Writing down a beautiful experience is a way to not only relive it, but to embalm it onto paper and keep it forever. If you miss the beach and its salty breeze, or the way the Sun ripples across the top of the warm water write about it. If you miss your childhood memories of playing sneaks, a first kiss or sports in the summer heat, write about it. I have so many short stories that I’ve written for my children when they were small. I have some that they helped to me write, even though they more than likely don’t remember. These are gifts I can give them when they're older. Memories that you can't watch, but you can only feel as you read along with a voice from long ago. I can't encourage people enough to find local writing groups. Imagination is a beautiful thing. I feel as though you can never be truly lonely if you can figure out how to tell yourself stories. Or maybe that's just the way I’ve convinced myself that, I'm not crazy, after being an at-home-mom for all these years.

Writing, music, and art, they're all ways to create. To create a feeling, or a thought. Have you ever been driving down the road and had a song come on and it takes you back to high school? Suddenly you find yourself laughing, or crying, that's what it feels like to write about something that you're truly passionate about. Criticism can be hard however. Someone telling you that you're not descriptive enough, or that they can't “see” what they’re being shown in your carefully selected words. Just like with anything though, society creates its own boundaries and wants you to color inside of the lines. Personally, I think the most incredible works of art are the ones scribbled by a small child, or nature’s tiny little bird prints in the newly fallen snow. I like to think of myself as rebellious when I write. All rules go out the window and heart takes over. To me spontaneous episodes of happiness or spare of the moment fun are the times we should cherish the most. I see memes on social media all the time like “live, love, laugh” or “It’s not about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.” I think they’re precious, but how often do we really do this?

The world is an amazing place if we can learn to let it live through us. If we can learn to relax and absorb what gifts it can give to our senses. I am a writer. This is how I express myself. However you express yourself, do it. Whether you crank up the radio at a red light and sing loud enough to stop traffic, or whether you sleep under the stars breathing in the earthy air. Just remember to feel. It’s easy enough to find yourself building up that wall, and shutting out the chaos of the mainstream, especially in the winter months, just remember to live. Life is too short too not try to feel everything.