Writing

My editor had a comment the other day, he said I hadn't been writing enough "nursing blogs" and then added with a wink, "maybe you've had something else on your mind."
He knows full well what's been on my mind and why safety in the workplace, unionism and leadership have dominated my writings as of late.
But still, he is correct, I have neglected nursing recently in my blogs and I promise to post on that.....soon, but for now I want to post on another part of my life.  It's something that I don't know that I've ever written about, and that is writing itself.
I think I have always been a writer, although for years I wrote only for myself in my journals.  To me it's a way of getting my feelings out and being creative at the same time.
I imagine it's similar to a painter who stands in front of an easel.  He may or may not be talented, but it doesn't matter, there is something inside him begging to be put on canvas.
When I sit with pen and paper or at the keyboard, I must write. The feelings must come out, or surely they will implode.  The skill of my writing is important to me and having it speak to my readers is even more important, but even if I was writing only for myself, the need would still exist.
Being a writer is a part of who I am, as well as being a nurse, a family man and a unionist. 
Thank you for reading what I write and sharing your thoughts with me, encouraging me, and giving me constructive criticism.
I'll never be the greatest writer of all time, nor the best nurse, nor the perfect family man, nor the consummate unionist.
That's OK, I try.
Writing gives me the courage to be open to my feelings as I pour them onto the page; my hopes, my dreams, my fears; and as I do this, I can be who I really am, as honest with myself and the world as possible, an open book, and that is the big reward.