Five Minute Friday - Bloom

It’s been too long. I haven’t written a Five Minute Friday post I weeks. That’s not a terribly awful amount of time. But it’s been too long. Too long without the delicious surge of words that flow at the reveal of the prompt. Too long without the company of these women that feel like home to me. Too long without pushing myself to see if I can stay within the limits and boundaries (not always). But always, there is the safety and comfort of this community.

On Fridays a bunch of brave writers gather here to all spend 5 collective minutes writing on a single prompt. It’s a great way to catch your breath at the end of a long week. This blessed, beautiful place where we open our hearts and let words and tears and the inner workings of our lives bleed and flow and dance across the virtual pages. Yes, this community opens wide and invites you in to share. Come and visit and read. You will be blessed.

This week: Bloom 

Go

You feel them. I know you do. I see you there. As I’m out online perusing the blogs and roaming through the Twittersphere. Sometimes you duck your head and whisper softly. Sometimes you linger against the virtual walls; leaning back and letting your fingers and eyes dart around the space that begins to feel like a room that you see through a door that is really only a screen.

The words call to you – you feel them pulsing in the very core of your being.

You write. You know you do. Even if you don’t have a blog (although you might), you have a journal, a notebook, a folio, or some secret stash of crinkled notes where the nouns and verbs and brilliant syntax swirl and dance and pour out of your heart and spill onto those pages. Scattered seeds seeking fertile ground.

I’ve seen you testing the earth where these seeds fall. You send something out into the wild of the ether; closing your eyes and praying that they take root. That someone reads. That someone hears. That the idea that you were born to write is more than just a dream you had when you were nine and you carefully lettered your name on the front of that speckled black composition book and said, “this is for my own.”

I have to say this tonight – I have to tell you that you are a brave sower of seeds; an adventurous scatterer of thoughts and ideas; a ground-breaking, edge-walking cultivator of creation. Your joyous gathering of praise. Your quiet meditations of hope. Your aching recollections of loss and longing. These things that go out into the unknown – these gifts that you plant. They will sink deep roots. Maybe not immediately. Maybe not always. But they go down. They take hold. Perhaps some will only grow for you (some blossoms are meant to be adored by only one). But they will grow.

Springing out and up, they will rise up and become stronger, more confident, more diligent, more faithful, more authentic. As you count your thanks and cultivate your gift, your words and your stories will go out and bear fruit. They will bloom. They will shine.

Be steady, beautiful heart. You are seen. You are known. Whether writing for the world as it abounds or the Majesty of an audience of One, you are cherished. You are loved.

Stop







How to Join 
Want to know about Lisa Jo Baker, how Five Minute Friday got started, and how to participate? All the details are here. No editing or second guessing. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community.

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