Sometimes life gets in the way of writing. But life is the reason we write.
It can be hard to find a good balance. In my life it seems to be all or nothing. I'm either immersed in the literary world with reading, writing, critiquing, and editing, or I'm on hiatus and focusing completely on my other job: motherhood. Transitioning from literary mode to mom mode was difficult because I missed writing and felt guilty for not critiquing and reading more. Transitioning back into literary mode has been difficult because I'm so out of practice.
The other day I was looking at clouds with my family as we drove home at twilight. Some of them had such a sweeping appearance that I commented it looked like they'd been painted there by a brush. My five-year-old asked me if the painter used a ladder to reach the sky. :)
Immediately, my story wheels began to turn. Story is in me. It's in all of us. While my writing muscles may have atrophied from a long absence, the reason why I write has not gone away.
What drives you to write?