July 13, 2009
Some days I feel all written out by the end of the day, as if there’s nothing left to say here. Constant revisions of briefings, presentations, bios and other paraphernalia at work leave me somewhat at a loss for coherent thoughts, let alone one hundred words. At times like this, I realize I am not a writer as Madeleine L’Engle speaks of it in her Crosswicks Journals, filled with ideas that need to be worked out on paper. The compulsion to write is coming from without, not within, and requires a certain “spin” and that takes a very different toll.