In order to feel “fulfilled” I know that I must write. Reading is great and I really do love it. But, it doesn’t offer the same release. Gardening and tending to the house, again feel good, and I like to check off things from my “to do” list, but they still leave me wanting more. Walking makes me feel good, but it doesn’t help me to empty myself so I can be filled again. Only writing.
Nothing purges my soul like writing. Nothing fills the well like writing. I can go about my day, finish a million tasks, have a sparkling house and tend to gardens, but the only thing that feeds me back is writing.
It’s theory until I write about it and only then does it become practice. The stuff I take in does not solidify until I regurgitate it back on paper. I think best when I write. All these thoughts that are swimming around in my mind are usable once put on paper. All my questions get cleared away and answered. I don’t feel like I can tackle the day until my thoughts are in order. And my thoughts are not put into order until I write.
I write much better than I talk. My ideas are clearer. I’m able to come up with solutions. What feels like questions, ideas and words floating freely in my mind are channelled and organized out of this free-flowing sphere to be built up, piece by piece.
My ideas are like puzzle pieces loosely scattered within a small box. When I write, I take one piece out at a time, examine it, touch it, look at it and find its place in the big picture. Once I write it down, it’s no longer free-floating but instead adding to a much more beautiful scene.
Once those loose pieces have found their place on paper, my mind conjures up new ideas, a new creation. This is how I learn. This is how I grow. This is why I must write.
Can you relate?