I appreciate how far this nation has come since the Civil Rights Movement and the days of Malcolm X and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. However, there still seems to be a long way to go. I had the idea to do this article in the fall, and find it fitting during Black History Month to feel motivated to write it.
Many thoughts swirl around in my head regarding the telling of my life’s story: my memoir.
“We read because if we don’t our eyes will dim. We write because if we don’t our souls will.”
I actually don’t remember my first kiss. When told to write about it my mind went to a darker place and a grimace found its way to my face.
Life, part of it, is about finding a balance between obligations, responsibilities, self-care, time with family/friends/significant others, and self-care days.
I can tell when I’m falling asleep. My brain hyper-focuses on the sound of my clock.
There was a writers’ group I regularly attended that I’d found on Meetup.com a few years ago.
As a holder of a PhD in Psychology, I self-analyze myself, my thought processes, my actions and reactions on a regular basis.
Life has a way of injecting itself and demanding our attention.
Completing projects for publication, even on my own website, was overwhelming when I first started my official writing career.