Have you also had the experience of not recognizing your own words when you read your dairies or your old blog posts?
This realization years ago was one of the reasons that I knew that I had to write. Not only really wanting to write, but feeling the strong pressure from realizing that if I do not write, I will not remember the me at that time or the moments that really meant something.
Some people are very good with remembering the past with many intricate details. For me, only some of those moments remain intact and clear with all of the events, thoughts and emotions that come with them. Others, sort of blend with who I am.
I believe that all of our experiences and encounters actually stay with us. Those moments are not really lost, but still I value being able to return to those moments.
Family and friends make life also precious by creating bridges to our past. Maybe for that reason, I feel like each loss and each connection severed diminishes who I am. For who I am seems to be also defined by what I am able to remember.
And then I write. Write some more. Then I stop and start again.
When I stop, it is not totally because I am scared of the effort and the vulnerability that comes with exposing who I am, because we do go through those waves of emotions and thoughts like everyone else. I learned how difficult it really is to decide to share what we write when I started to write my newspaper columns and when I published my previous eight books. However, writing is making a choice. It is taking a stand, however naive or ‘innocent’ the topic and content may be. And it is about making sure that we are sincere and are truthful to who we are.
Sometimes my friends and family members ask me how I know that what I write is meaningful for others, if it is worth the effort? I personally cannot say that writing brought me a lot of financial returns. It is more about believing in the positive ripple effects of our intended positive contribution. It is about that unstoppable feeling that takes us to the computer or makes us rush to find that notebook and pen.
And also, time again I receive an email, a phone message from a friend or a reader that I did not know existed who encourages me to continue to write and share that it made a difference in their lives. Each time I receive such a message, I am humbled, but also grateful. Because then, even though they do not share the details, I know what might have touched their heart. They become a compass that shows me the way.
Whether we acknowledge it or not, we actually do know when we write well, however, we also do know that to be able to write that unique and worthwhile piece, we need to keep on writing, keep on trying to decide what our unique contribution is and to let that message take form.
And to continue to leave those breadcrumbs leading us back to our soul.
