As a writer, I find it useful from time to time to reflect on why I write, why I consistently spend hours writing (or trying to write), crafting words into short stories, poems and memoir pieces. Creative writing is hard … most writers I know agree. If it is so difficult, then why do I persist?
For me, writing is a quiet, solitary experience which I find soul enriching. But it can be lonely, is often frustrating and sometimes ignites powerful emotions that can be challenging to process. I can spend a lot of time trying to write and not arrive at a ‘finished piece’ … I might not even arrive at a sentence I feel content with. Despite this, I find the process of writing to be wholesome, energising, immensely rewarding, and fulfilling … this is why I persist at the craft.
Recently, I have been struggling with my writing and so this is a good moment to reflect and ask myself:
Q: Why do I want to write?
A: To get to know and remain connected to my inner self (my soul / my ‘being’) … and … to discover all there is to know about me as a ‘human’, a person with a personality and an ego (we all have one) and who experiences this world through her senses. To explore myself as a human and continue to grow and develop to be the ‘best’ I can possibly be.
Q: How do I feel when confronted with a blank page?:
A: Receptive to what might come from within and with a willingness to ‘go there’ … even if I am lured to the dark places. Hopeful I will learn something about myself. Content if nothing appears, but acknowledging that if I can scribble something … anything … and just get started, then words will eventually flow.
Q: Who am I writing for?
A: Primarily for myself, for the joy that comes during the process, but also for anyone who, if they choose to read my writing, may be helped in some small way … to discover something new for themselves or simply to discover joy too.
Q: What would I like others to feel when they read, or hear my words?
A: An emotion … some reaction that comes from within that may awaken them to a greater awareness of themselves and that this might generate feelings of compassion, wellbeing and empathy.
Q: What is my greatest need as a writer?
A: To experience connection with myself, but also with other writers through sharing and mutual respect, with no judgement, total acceptance and compassion.
Q: What blessings do I want to offer anyone who reads my writing and/or who would like to write themselves?
A: For them to feel connected to themselves, to love themselves as they are (without exception), to know they are loved as they are in this moment, to heal from past hurts and to encourage them to say through their own words the unsayable and to be heard.
I write from emotional depth and because of this, writing feels like I am taking a risk. I like this feeling even though it can be unnerving when I share my words with others. Despite and because of this, I want to keep going with it, I have to keep writing …. never stopping … because writing helps me not to feel broken. It keeps me feeling whole and connected to the universe and able to express all of me.
I liken the process of writing to the feelings I have when I ride my bike through the landscape. Riding brings me great joy … it is my way into solitude and peace … it is my special place where I am at one with nature … when I can travel alongside the birds … when I can fly with them and be totally free … to be me …
The following poem was inspired by a writing prompt where I focussed on two words: ‘risk’ and ‘broken’.
Carry it Always
And if I speak of risk, then I am speaking about being broken.
My Uncle Clifford told me broken was like being ripped
apart and stitched back together with wire wool.
It hurts, he said and you are never the same again.
Uncle Clifford took risks, but it wasn’t falling off his bike
that broke him, when his skull hit the jagged side of a rock
and blood flowed from the corner of his eye like larva tears.
It was when they told him he wouldn’t ride again,
not with a floppy head and a mush of wriggling worms for a brain.
Uncle Clifford taught me devotion to risk, to carry it always
on my person, like the shark’s tooth I found on the shoreline when I was ten.
And if life gets boring, or puts you under pressure,
he said, or if you feel you are trapped in a cage,
then trace its form in your pocket and do it anyway.
And if you forget one day and start to wobble, remember
being broken isn’t about not being able to do anything, it’s about not trying.
Today Uncle Clifford lives in a convalescent home in Southend-on-Sea.
He rides a tricycle along the seafront and watches seagulls scream.
LyndyH 