In addition to writing this blog, I also often write a long-hand journal as a place to sort out thoughts and emotions.
The other day, I was writing along and the pen died. Most times, the ink slowly fades and there are signs that the end is approaching. But this time, it went from legible to invisible on the same word without any notice.
I think that the ink in pens can be a metaphor for life. Most times, there are indications that things are slowing down, but other times, life just stops. You never know.
There is only so much ink in your barrel, and when you run out, it’s done. Use your ink wisely.