The other day, my husband and I played hooky and went to a baseball game. Now, I like baseball but I don't know things like stats or who leads the league in anything, etc. And I don't watch just any teams play - I watch the Tampa Bay Rays. Why only them? They're the local team, yes, but it's more than that: they always look like they're having so much fun out there. They remind me of young boys (and some of them look like they're barely out of school!) who are having a rip roaring good time playing an afternoon game of ball. Even when the score's not in their favor, or someone should've caught a ball, or someone else struck out, they still give me the impression they're happy and grateful to be there.
Even though I wasn't "writing" that day, it reminded me of why I do write - that joy you feel when you're doing the thing you're best at, the thing you're meant to do, the thing you love.
Now, play ball! Or, go write!