Epiphany on the Way Home from Writing Group

 Day 140…

It’s 8:45 on the eve of the twelfth night.  A dark night, except for bright Venus and the sliver of a new moon, as I navigate through an obstacle course of construction work on the way home from writing group.  The newest member of the group is riding with me. 

 We’ve tightened up the structure in writing group–more writing, less talking.  It had gotten rather lax.  My passenger comments on the renewed format.  She is appreciative, says something about how the writing keeps her focused, keeps the day-to-day chaos at bay.  (Not exactly her words, but what I understood them to mean)

Yeah, that’s what this group offers.  Not how to be a better writer, although that may be a side effect.  Not just the particular group of people, although each individual is quite talented and unique in many ways.  It’s something about sitting together with all the thoughts and experiences we bring and feeling safe.  Nice.

The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.

Maya Angelou

Writing topic:  A safe place


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