Writing Is My Hay

Writing Is My Hay
By John R. Greenwood

I just returned from reading a Bedlam Farm.Com  post about hay being the thread of life on a farm. Hay is such a simple thing and yet without it many animals would perish. That's when it dawned on me that writing is my hay. It draws me to the desk each day like a horse to the greenest pasture. I relish each line as though munching another mouthful of dry rye, lifting my head just long enough to savor the world around me. It doesn't matter what I write about or how it's shared, but it does matter that it happens. When days multiply without words, I become hungry and weak. Irritability rises and my sense of worth drops a point or two. When I put my life on paper I breathe. It keeps me vital in the world. It is a small corner I inhabit and without documentation my fear is that it will someday become extinct. I'm the little guy who writes about little things like mowing the lawn and swimming holes. The hay that sustains the majority. The nourishment we must appreciate in order to receive its full benefits. As I munch away here I begin to feel full again, if only for a few hours or maybe a day or two, always knowing I will need another armful of hay, another pageful of sharing. Each morning when the alarm rings and the day begins to entwine itself, I yearn for something more. I keep all my senses on alert for more hay, more sustenance. I am never opposed to being fed by strangers either. Any broken bales of ideas or thoughts are welcome. Simply throw them over the fence and watch me eat. I will absorb your thoughts and dreams and let them supply me strength. Strength to continue my writing, working life. 

What's your hay?