Being grounded in writing everyday has much improved my balance and calm in the midst of moving from a one bedroom house to a two bedroom house with a three year old.  It brings me time to not think about all that must be done, but rather dive into the deep and vast ocean of literature.  I find that I definitely identify with being a writer when writing brings me such a deep connection to what really matters in this life, and to me those things are love and joy and allowing life to unfold, in all its many and mystical robes. 

Sometimes crying is like a rush of spring melt and comes with force and life energy.
Sometimes it creates an opening, a portal for intuition, and expressive words to flow forth.  Sometimes it opens a window into the heart.
All this I found to be true, as I remembered my grandfather, suddenly, with such force and wept, and wrote and wept more, and explained to my son what I was feeling and what I missed.  And listened as he told me what he missed.

It was a moment of grace, of breathtaking emotion, of love.