Supposed To Do It

Okay, maybe I was supposed to.

It would appear that after all of my fears and apprehensions I have finally found what it is I should be doing (at least some of the time).

I have had some success with my writing recently and I honestly feel overwhelmed by the positive feedback, but there have been some other amazing things to come from my writing experience so far.

Ever since I was a young girl, I have enjoyed writing. Today I want to share a story with you.

I think I was about eight years old at the time. My family used to go camping regularly to Pistyll Rhaeadr, an incredibly beautiful and scenic waterfall found in Wales.
It truly is a fine example of the beauty of Wales, while being just one of many hidden gems to be found both on and off the beaten track.

There is a campsite at the bottom surrounded in the safety between grand hills you just have to explore. The views from every peak are incredible. While I do not advise it now, a younger me with others, came across a ‘slate slide’ and proceeded to ride the grey shingle made waves down to the bottom.

We used to stay here a lot. In my earlier memories I remember being allowed to have fires on the ground, though I watched while the adults took care of that before sitting beside it… Staring… Absolutely mesmerised. There would be music until late but everyone usually seemed very mindful of others space and enjoyment, perhaps the nature of Earth lovers?
I remember sharing resources if we or someone else was without, teabags and the like usually (One of Britain’s shopping list essentials).
I remember walking to the springs to collect water and waiting with my Mom for the camping kettle to tune its joyful whistle once we returned.
I remember eggy bread with maple syrup. Camping breakfasts cooked on a fire are the best. I digress again. I am in memory bank heaven.

Okay. So there was a day when I met a girl there who was about my age. I think her name was Sapphire.
My Mom always used to pack notebooks, pencils and rubbers when we travelled, knowing how stuck there my brother and I could get.
I showed Sapphire my notebook and frog rubber that sat on my pencil, she liked them and had her own note books too.

We sat on a rock in the camp ground and wrote a line each to create stories. It was the first time I co-authored anything of course and I remember feeling so elated. We laughed a lot, and I recall being sad when she left the day before us.

I don’t know where that book went but in this moment I see its raw value. I wish I could remember what the stories were about.

At this time in my life I find a return to writing. I have once again found that same childhood elation.
There is so much joy in the writing communities online, particularly twitter. As authors, we not only have the power to set ourselves free; When we feel brave enough, we can free others too.
I’ve had some amazing conversations with friends who have read my book, and the conversations have elevated us higher in mutual self-discovery and growth. I’m so pleased to have put myself out there.

I had forgotten to write for passion and enjoyment, rediscovering that feeling is changing my life. Perhaps I was always supposed to write.

To Sapphire, if that is your name, in the slim chance that you ever come across this. I hope that your life has been as full of adventure as our notebooks were that summer.

With love,

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