How I Got Here

I love to write and observe what is around me.  I used to write it all down.  My pants pockets were filled with scraps of folded up paper with random sentences and fragments, hopeful that they would someday turn into something.  Anything.  When laundry day would come, I would either file them away in the ever-growing pile next to my bed (strategically located just behind the clock stand) or they would end up in the trash.  Very little ever came of my musings.  Very little.  College kind of killed the writing spirit.  All I ever wanted to do was write, so I majored in English.  Wow.  WRONG DECISION.  I quit writing.  I quit musing.  It all became papers and reading and required.  I felt as though my creativity had been squashed.

When I graduated in July, I set off on life.  Without writing.  Something kept kicking me, though.  I didn't recognize it for a while.  I didn't know what that missing piece was.  I have a job.  I have friends.  I have a gym membership.  Haven't I arrived? 

No.

I wrote what became my first entry on this blog to share with some friends.  Really, I wrote it for myself, inspired by a new-found feeling of joy.  The feedback was amazing.  My friends reminded me that I am a writer.  I even had to remind myself.  It felt good to write that short piece about something as simple as a new feeling in the morning. 

Now, I feel as though I have arrived.  Writing, everyday so far, has been a great pleasure and excites my soul.  I feel alive again.  Things around me are crazy.  So I log onto blogspot and write.  I notice new things, things I wouldn't have noticed a week ago.

I was at Wendy's for lunch today.  I opted to sit at the table next to this elderly couple, thinking they would be quieter than the group of twenty-somethings or the booth of construction workers.  These people were 85 if they were a day, and I thought that would be a safe place to sit and write for my next blog.  What I was going to write about, I did not know, but I certainly never imagined they would end up in my blog.
It turns out, the twenty-somethings were all studying for a test or something of that sort.  The construction workers obviously didn't like each other - they barely talked.
The elderly couple, in all their livelihood, talked to each other excitedly and LOUD.  It was clear they were in love and crazy about each other.  They talked about going to see their grandkids this weekend.  They talked about going to the grocery store on the way "Because you know she never has anything for me to cook - those children could use a decent meal!"  LOUD.  Okay, maybe they were hard of hearing and had to talk loud, but I don't think so.  I think they were just like two teenagers in love.  They had matching canes and were about the same size in stature.  They were beautiful. 
No, I'm not married, nor am I in any kind of relationship at the moment.  But I appreciate love when I see it.  I know "all you need is love", and I was reminded again. 
Wow. Lesson learned. Good lunch.