You may be mystified by the way you can be joyfully writing, then find yourself without words.

Most of us who write have done so since we were children; and too often we began writing to ease fears and hurts and find a way through our angers.

In my writing circles, I’ve often heard writers tell us that their childhoods were marked by familial invasions of their writing – moms or dads or siblings who snooped in diaries or private journals.

There might have been too little interest or encouragement – or too much.

I believe that as we occupy our lives, so we occupy our writing. Most of us need space to do that. Writing is a private gift – unless or until we choose to share it.

Prompt: Try using these words as a prompt, then write for as long as you need to: My dear kid, I’m here. I hope you will tell me about your words. Did they matter? Did you love them?