In the past six months, prior to starting Choosing This Moment, I posted to a blog exactly twice. I have entries in my journal for just a handful of dates, hardly worth counting over the course of half a year. Other than those scant signs of creative output, which I can count on one hand, I wrote nothing.

I love to write. It’s always been a means of processing for me, a way to explore the world around me and my interaction with it, an outlet for my more creative side. I love the flow of words, the way a perfect phrase sounds just right. And yet, for six months, nothing.

In large part, this was due to circumstance – because of certain unexpected and difficult events, my blog had become a place where it was no longer wise for me to write. Some things don’t belong in the public eye, no matter how small a readership base I may have had. In addition, the events themselves were emotionally draining and exhausting, and so it became easier to let writing slide than to find the time and energy to pursue it.

But yesterday, yesterday I created a new blog, a safe space for creative writing. And this morning I woke early with the desire to say something – anything – here. I have a busy few days ahead of me, and I had this drive to put some words, any words, down because otherwise I might not have the chance until Monday. Monday! So far away! Imagine going that long without a post!

Which makes me think that a dream or a desire to pursue a particular activity is not enough, that an enjoyment of something won’t compel me to do it without having an extra impetus. For writing, I needed to create space on the world wide web, even if that space is just a silly url with a .blogspot at the end of it.

What other worthy pursuits lay dormant for lack of space? How can I be intentional about creating space – physical, emotional, spiritual, temporal – for those things?