I feel like I have so much to say in this space, but it rarely gets said. It doesn't really make sense--writing words is my natural language, so you think I would be eager to write and write and write here, but that's not the case. I see glossy blogs all the time that I absolutely love, but I think my love for them causes me to want to imitate them rather than finding my own voice. Booyah, ouch, let's be honest. It's true. I've had this blog since 2008; c'mon now, it's time to get authentic, right? There's sooo much more I could do with this space.
I've been thinking a lot lately about why I love writing. A few things that come to mind:
(1) Typing on a computer, or using a pen on paper, feels like home. It's just a good correlation between my mind and my hands--my mouth missed the memo on communicating somehow :) but as long as I can type or write, I feel like I can express myself well. Otherwise it's a lot of "think think think" Pooh bear style.
(2) It's pleasing to the eye. Letters on a page, with serifs, without, filling up blank space, doodles included... it's soothing. Words, to me, are the visual equivalent of walking into a coffee shop and letting that wonderful aroma relax you.
(3) It helps me collect my thoughts. Sometimes I feel like my mind is everywhere, and putting a pen to paper abolishes the crazy. Thoughts come out one at a time and begin to make sense. I really enjoy free-writing, where I will write for a good 5-10 minutes, and won't look back until I've gotten every bother/worry/concern/list out. What's odd is that sometimes I don't even realize I felt a certain way about something until I read it back this way--without editing, honesty shines through.
(4) It's tangible. I love receiving snail mail and letters, or pulling up e-mails. Handwriting is gold to me--right now, reading cards and notes my mom sent to me is time preciously spent. It's like having a piece of her in my hands. And my husband's handwritten notes? Chicken scratch, in font size 2. But I love it.
So I love writing. Or I hope I've conveyed what writing means to me. The question that keeps coming to my mind is: if I love writing so much, why don't I do it? Especially in this platform?
Let's be honest again, shall we? After much thought and discussion with friends, I've realized boom: I don't think others want to take the time to read what I write, and boom again: I'm scared of what they'll think if they do read it. Fear, simply. I'm praying through this and am really asking the Lord to remove these hinderances in my life so that I can do what I love!
I don't know if it's because I'm turning 30 soon or what, but I'm beginning to feel this spring gurgling inside that says, "DO IT GIRL!" Whether it's writing, or running, or reaching out to others, or helping lead a Bible study, or whatever has been on my mind lately, I hear this spring of excitement echo my thoughts back to me with encouragement to move forward, but especially in the writing arena. Why has it taken 30 years? (18 would be more accurate... I distinctly remember falling in love with writing when I was 12.) I want the answer to this question, and again, I am praying about it and waiting for the Lord to show me. I'm waiting for my "aha" moment there...
I recently deleted my Healthy Because blog (gasp) to help me focus my efforts. I'm even thinking about starting fresh on a whole new blog, with another server (gasp gasp), but those are just wispy cloud thoughts for now.
If you've made it this far, thanks for reading my mumbo jumbo ramblings as I try to just write and not look back. That's right; I'm not editing this post at all.