Purpose and Voice. Find Them.

I'm not in the mood to write (if you were at the volleyball game, you probably know why), but I'm doing it anyway. I'm also not going over my ten minutes. I took a sleeping pill (if you were at the volleyball game, you probably know why), and my hope is to be knocked out within the half hour. This could get interesting.

I've missed days in my #write31days challenge, and the urge to write gets stronger each day I neglect my task. I now have at least ten topics I'd love to write about, including my Women of Coaching series, but I'm so overwhelmed with ideas that it messes with me. I remember this feeling. And I know if I continue to avoid writing, the urges will continue. Or I'll find ways to dull the urges, and eventually give up. So, I'm not done.

It's extra important I write tonight. When we lose a volleyball match, it weighs heavily on me. When my children are being idiots, also something we've dealt with tonight, it weighs me down. When my Monday was a true Monday, and it somehow carried into Tuesday, my mind is heavy. When I'm putting on the pounds, I'm literally weighted down, and this one especially sucks.

Writing is my release.

I'm not great, but one of the best compliments I've received was from one of my volleyball players. She confided she enjoys reading my blogs because she can hear me in the words. Isn't that what all writer's want? Our voice coming through in a specific set of words. Anyone could have written those words, but she heard ME. We all want to be heard, and for some of us, written words are the avenue best suited.

A huge thanks to all of you who are continuously supporting and encouraging my writing. You make my days brighter.

By the way, I may or may not have gone over my minutes, but who's counting anyway?

See the Good, Be the Good

Making Memories

Windows down, music blaring, the cool air prickling my skin, and I'm suddenly thrust back in time to the drag in Fairfield, Texas, on an October Saturday night. As we take a left and hit the back roads, the Fall smells engulf my senses. Burning leaves waft through the open sunroof, and I'm instantly a giddy teenager all over again. I know every word to every song screaming through the speakers, and as my sidekick and I belt out the catchy tune, I'm reminiscent of that cute guy waving in the white Dodge. We see a cop, and I quickly turn down the radio in order to avoid detection. We laugh. We sing. We are.

The funny thing is I'm experiencing this moment now with my 9-year-old, and as much as I treasure the wonderful memories of growing up in Fairfield, my appreciation of being in this moment almost becomes too much. Our eyes meet, and Addison says to me, "You're a lot of fun, Mom!" Just making memories, baby girl. Making wonderful memories.

See the Good, Be the Good,

Kelly