Lately I keep asking myself the question, what do I write for? The past few months I have written many pieces which I have passed on publishing to this blog. It seems like right now, emotions are heightened. Any difference of opinion is more likely to be met with incomparable emotional aggression than to that of recent years, where our differences were used to shine light on each other’s perspectives of the world. Where before, the freedom to state your own thoughts was welcomed as a chance to better understand someone else’s point of view, now it takes on the liking of social defiance and subsequent drama. I’m always wanting to tow that line of truth and offense, and that has kept me bottled up because if I cannot write with abandon then there is no reason for me to write.
As I re-read all of my writings still sitting on my computer, I realized that there is no difference between the writer and their writing. It is the embodiment of them, without a single ounce of regret.
Writers do not write from a place of trepidation. They will pop open the vein of consequence like a well-aged bottle of champagne, and look on as their truth soils the foundation of political correctness. There is no fragile tip-toeing, but instead, fearlessly earth-shaking steps. Like an elephant on a casual stroll through a crowded city.
If we are writing to please others than we have fallen short of our title. When I write, I do so without fear, which is what makes this hobby of mine a necessity. But when it comes to publishing my writing, I wind up allowing that original lack of fear to bend and contort itself into worry for what will happen if I speak my truth. How many of us try and gage our audience before we publish our words? How many of us write with calculation instead of reckless abandon? But shouldn’t a writer only speak their truth? When we sugar coat and grease up our words, aren’t we missing the source of connection to the very ones whom long to hear something genuine? Something that leaves a residue on our minds, of endless thought to ponder?
This reminds me of when my child tells me a story. She goes about it with great finesse and excitement for what her imagination sees as plausible. She doesn’t pause and wonder how it’s going to land, she enraptures me in her fantasy by believing it herself, and translating that belief to me through her expressive words. She isn’t yet grounded in logic and rationale, but instead in the mysticism of her waking dream-like state. She tells the story never worrying how it will be received, but in a way that is most inspiring to her. This is what makes her a good story-teller. It is also what makes me look forward to hearing more. She believes, so I believe. She’s inspired, so I’m inspired.
As writers, we are a fine line away from fully rational adults and imaginative children in adult bodies. Wanting to instill the same zest for our stories into the reader as we feel it, ourselves. In order to do that, we have to remain fearless. To write our words with boldness and without remorse. We have to say the things that come to mind as if no one else has ever said them before. We have to insert our voice into our writing with pure confidence.
I keep wondering, what am I really doing blogging? Is it fulfilling? Do I want to continue it? When I started this, writing through the pain that I was rapidly re-cycling through my brain – It was to find a way to reach the other side and no longer feel its sting. Most days, I feel that sigh of relief that I have finally gotten through it and can breathe. Other days, I still feel that sorrow which at one time, consumed me. A year ago I wrote my own New Year’s resolution to myself and a few of days ago, I found it.
It said, “This year I will expect the best; and I will learn from the bad. I will achieve my goals; and encourage others to go after their own. I will love each day as if it’s my last. I will extract the lessons from every situation; and implement their wisdoms. I will call to me all that I have dreamt; and I will stand strong against criticisms. I will show strength through my weaknesses; and I will remember that I am only human. I will forgive the past and move forward into today and tomorrow’s newness. This year will be filled with changes; all meant to grow my faith in who I am. I will write to persevere; to reach that which I want to become.”
I measured my words against what I have seen of myself this past year. The areas in which I have tried, whether succeeding or not, are visible. The major leaps taken towards learning from my life’s experiences by finding the truth within them, through writing about them is evident. I have shown my weaknesses for the whole world to see and thus, have found so much unrealized strength within myself, from having done so. I have begun my pursuit of the dream of writing, by stepping full-fledged into this world of blogging — Which allowed me to better know my own voice, as a writer. I have taken constructive measures into forgiving the past, and each day I wake up ready to receive what the new day holds within its hands for me – Albeit good or bad. There have been so many changes. Most of which I would have never imagined would be, until they were here. But am I doing enough? Does this blogging make a difference now or does it serve as the placeholder to the next phase that is just around the corner? Am I saying all that needs to be said or am I placing too much worry on the consequence of truth, and withholding the biggest part of me?
I can feel the winds of change beginning to blow through and as they do, I feel the push to keep moving along with them. Like birds soaring on the safety and direction of the winds, leading them to their next destination. Resistance does nothing, but keep me stagnate. I’m walking into 2018 tired of fighting against the current of my mind’s ocean. I’m also positive that I know no other way to be or to write than to go against that current. Though I have a wonderful feeling of hope inside of what this new year will bring through its metamorphosis into something beautiful and yet to be seen — I feel the need to step back and allow inspiration to come to me. To shake the cobwebs from my wandering mind and allow myself to feel the comfort within my thoughts transcribed. So for now, I am signing off until I get ahold of that inspiration. It may be permanent, it may be temporary – And either way, it is okay with me.
As we stride into this new year, it is with new experiences, new lessons and new wisdoms ahead. Hopefully each one of us is stepping into it somehow changed by what the past year held for us. Life is growth and with that, comes some growing pains. It isn’t always easy and it isn’t always fun, but it does always hold a very special key to our own maturation. May each day bring new answers, a wider perspective and an audacious nature for telling our truths, without fear, to the world around us.