This is what I look like when I work. After getting a professional beachy blowout, I slip into my most bedazzled top and sheer, floor-length kimono. My make-up is soft and dewy with the perfect feminine hue on my lips. And the words flow effortlessly from my fingertips as I relax comfortably into the gorgeous throw pillows providing a comfy perch.
More accurately, I’m usually donning dirty sweats with a messy bun. My make-up is less agelessly flawless and more “how old is she anyway.” You can probably find me sitting at my local small-town coffee shop. Located inside a grocery store. The joint’s windowless, but the fluorescent lighting is super-dee-duper flattering. And the tables are just a tad too short making me feel like a hunchback hunting and pecking away at keys.
Nope. Writing isn’t glamorous. Far from it. But it sure is dreamy. For 10 years I’ve written a personal blog. One thing I’ve learned over the past decade is that writing can be daunting. But it is also incredibly life-giving and freeing. Regardless of my surroundings, my outfit, my level of comfort, may the words of my heart always make their way to their audience and gently stir the souls of those who read them.