Finding my own inspiration

Today I was reminded of why I want to be a writer. Not that I had forgotten really, but it was more one of those "light bulb going off" moments that jolt you so hard you're forced to pay attention.

After quite a traumatic holiday (the details of which I will politely decide not to offer up here) came tumbling to an end, I spent the day reading, writing and just overall soul searching. I guess sometimes it takes us completely losing our way to really find it. Even if it means finishing up right where we started.(Again)

Anyway, as I was perusing the aisle's of Border's after a long afternoon of therapy via writing, I stumbled upon the memoir section. I typically prefer to read, and write, fiction - mainly because I find that real life tends to disappoint us more than the stories we make up in our heads - I decided to give reality a chance.

I'd recently read Elizabeth Gilbert's "Eat.Pray.Love" and the beauty of the truth in her words is something I'll admit has surpassed most of what I've read in fiction. Her book stood displayed on the outside wall of the bookshelves holding the stories of real people, brave enough to put their lives down on paper.

I took this as a sign and made my way into the depths of the truths that lined these bookshelf'd walls surrounding me. There is a quote by Vonnegut that has been a long time favorite of mine and oddly enough is entirely appropriate for how I was currently feeling. It goes like this:

"I am eternally grateful...for my knack in finding in great books, reason enough to feel honored to be alive, no matter what else might be going on." - Kurt Vonnegut

It seems that in these hard times there is something guiding us to these such books. And that's what happened to me today. Now sitting here reading Cindy Guidry's "The Last Single Woman in America," I feel like I've found a stranger who knows exactly how I feel, regardless of the fact we have never and probably will never meet. Someone whose words feel like words I could have written myself. And, if only for a moment, my hope is restored in humanity and the fact that maybe we really are all in this together. And maybe everything really will be okay? Maybe.

To reach just one person with my words in this way is what keeps me writing, and ultimately, what keeps me living.

So I wanted to send a thank you out to the universe, and specifically to Cindy Guidry.

Until next time...