
This morning I’m writing in response to an open invitation on Sharing Our Stories: Take Space for Writing.
There are many physical spaces where I write. Most often it is at the desk in my office with my notebook and pen, a lined notepad and pencil, or my laptop. But this morning I found myself thinking more about my inner space.
Lately I’ve been waking to words. I find myself listening to ideas, phrases, snatches of poetry or prose in that magical space between sleeping and stirring. Most often it has to do with a story I’m working on, but sometimes it’s something completely different. This “writing in my head” is not new to me, nor does it only happen as I wake. I compose beginnings, endings, stories, poems as I walk or cook or fold laundry. I believe it’s the act of performing a routine task that opens my mind to ideas. The problem, of course, is remembering. That’s why there is a small notebook or two in my purse or stashed in a kitchen drawer. “Notes” is one of my favorite phone apps.
Quiet is what defines my inner writing space. It might be interrupted by the wren who greets the day, the gentle snoring of my dog by my side, the plop of the newspaper on the driveway, or the song of the wind chimes. But it is a peaceful, calm, inner space that fuels my writing.

