I admit it. I am a woman of many, grand passions. Chief among them is my spouse of nearly 37 years (in March) and writing. Equally important: inspiring others, cats and peach cobbler. Everyone harbors some grand passion; something that they have to do or burst. 

 For example, recently I was speaking with a colleague whom mentioned that exercising was a passion of hers. It seems like her father had always been athletic so she figured she got this honestly. She indicated that she didn’t feel right unless she worked out, or did some kind of exercise daily. For me — not so much. Sure, there have been moments.  For instance, there was running to catch the ice cream man’s truck before the driver could get away when I was a young girl. Like Pavlov’s dog (the study where scientist Ivan Pavlov noticed the dogs in his research tended to salivate before food was actually delivered to their mouths) the ice truck’s bell had that same affect.  

Once I chased the ice cream truck for over two blocks before the driver saw me (or heard me yelling) and pulled over so that I could purchase my Dreamsicle (an orange ice cream bar). 

Over the years there have been other exercise spurts: my run/walk of four miles to fulfill my annual military fitness requirements. There’ve also been the occasional 20 yard dashes to get the last size 8 purple snake skin pumps at the Shoe Crib. Most recently there’ve been the mad sprints to get a slice of Ms. Elsie’s sweet potato pie before it’s gone at my church’s potlucks.

Writing on the other hand has always been a part of the fabric of my life. So, what better time to write about this grand passion than a month that’s synonymous with passion, emotions and sentiment?  Anticipating a big, big, big, birthday in two weeks further fuels this deep reflection.

When you are passionate about something you tend to stick with it. Writing is no exception. I’ve had enough rejection letters to wall paper my downstairs half bath with a few to spare. There’ve been times that shook my confidence to the core. Yet, before I knew it I would find myself scribbling down notes for an article or a chapter for a future book. When the heart harbors a passion, nothing else matters.

Even my poor husband has not escaped unscathed. As one morning he awoke to discover a Post-it stuck smack dab in the middle of his forehead as I have been known to jot down an errant thought in the middle of the night lest I forget. Ideas for my books and articles pop into my head at the oddest times. And I’ve been known to jot down my thoughts on anything at hand; small scraps of paper, cocktail napkins, even Post-it notes. I also tended to use whatever writing instrument within reach: a pencil, a Sharpie, and once even an eyebrow pencil. If I am lucky, I get to educate, entertain and frequently empower others. If I’m truly lucky I also make them laugh.