The Writer

When I was 9 years old, I decided I wanted to be a writer... I wanted to write books, stories, ideas. And I do that in journals, and articles for the newsletter at our Center, and letters to friends (yes, I still do that) - and other than a chapter in an anthology, I have no "published books" to my name. 
Author and teacher and friend, Kim Hermanson, entered my life through her book, Getting Messy, and she came here and did a workshop which included the most wonderful exercise of using metaphor as a writing tool; picking the topic and writing about it from the first person. 
Of late, I am seeing that I have been setting things up for this to be the year writing really begins - we shall see. So I wrote about the writer.

I am the writer - I capture the story from life, from mind and heart and the dreams of the ancestors, and I put it where those who need its lesson most will find it. Layered between the actions and experiences is a gentle tug - a nudge - an invitation to follow the lead and explore what it is to learn and apply and live the lesson. I am Writer - I, of myself, hold no meaning, yet I can lay it out for people to discover. 
What I really want to say is there are volumes of words and worlds that yearn to be expressed by me and I have yet to find a way to effectively and regularly (even religiously) let them free to dance in the minds and hearts of others.
A treasure locked in the closet where no one can celebrate it is no treasure at all. The gift only exists in the giving of it.