So I’m at this conference–a conference I have been to for many years in a row. To some extent, this gig has become old hat. Which explains, perhaps, my surprise that something feels different today–something feels new. It wasn’t until I was sitting down with an editor to discuss a potential book project that it dawned on me: in all the shifts that are taking place in my life, professionally and personally, a space is opening up for me to get back into a discipline of writing.

And it wasn’t until some time later, walking back to my hotel this afternoon, that the irony of this “revelation” struck me: Hey–what do you think you have been doing every single day for the past three months? I haven’t bothered doing a word count since Day 59, but it’s got to be upwards of 45,000 words I’ve produced, one day at a time. That sounds like a discipline of writing to me!

The point is: from a very young age, I have always enjoyed writing. I did not think I would be writing academic material at the age of 12, that’s for sure, but I knew that I wanted to work with words. And I have done that for a long time.

But for the last couple of years, I would say that the administrative portion of my current job has slowly started to outweigh the creative and scholarly component. Sure, I enjoy some aspects of administration, but I have missed the writing.

So now I am writing, and the writing is opening up other opportunities to write more.

So what am I reconnecting with today? Myself, I suppose–or at least one facet of who I am.