Slice of Life Tuesday is hosted by Two Writing Teachers
We met at a lovely old inn, with the invitation to write and to support each other as we wrote.
And, write, we did.
Each of us found a place in which to work. And each of us found a way towards the rhythm of writing…thinking…writing. At one point, late Saturday afternoon, I paused mid thought and mid sentence to take in the sight of raindrops cascading down the windowpanes. A few raindrops caught and held the weak afternoon sunlight as they glided down towards the windowsill. I allowed my attention to wander from the words on the page before me to the rain dance on the windowpanes, and as I did, I heard the tap tapping of something else…writers at work all around me – in the rooms next door, across the hallway, and up the oak staircase.
Tap tap, tap tap tap.
Writers at work.
Somehow, the sound of all that tapping, and the writing it signified, filled me with reverence. Writing is lonely work; it is reaching deep within to discover what one really wants to say and then endeavoring to say it the best way one knows how. Writing is important work. Even so, it was comforting to hear others engaged in the very same labor, and comforting to know that soon we would collect to read each other’s work and honor that labor.
Writing is a solitary endeavor, true, but we benefit so much from the communities we create around ourselves to inspire and encourage us to keep going. I gazed at the rain one last time, and then settled back into my writing work…reverent and grateful.