Yes, I do. I write. In this case, I text?
Anyhow I’m not going to go into details about that. Simply, I am a writer. I am a Being who has so much to say but barely says anything…if that makes any sense.
I am inspired to write today. The Spirit has come down…this time it was through Neil Gaiman.
Here I was this morning, in bed, procrastinating, as Coehelo describes he does, too, then I decide that I was going to watch the YouTube video of his speech. Never heard of him. I had no visual either. Just did it.
And…as a result, I write.
When did I first write?
I don’t know maybe when I was four or something. But to answer when I started journalling or had the urge to get whatever it was bugging me from the inside, out? It would have to be in November 2006. My sister, my Irish Twin (as we have been called), the one who I am the same age as for 22 days, had gifted me my very first Journal. I’ve refrained from calling it a diary because 1: its not pink and it is without a lock and key; and 2: calling it a diary is too girly for my taste. That was the start of (my 4-yr-old is throwing a major tantrum! Break…)
(Tantrum put out…back to writing)
Where was I?
When did I first start journalling? It was November of 2006. That first journal took eight months to fill. I know I have 1 notebook that took 7 years to fill (that’s a separate story though).
Why did I want to write?
Well, as I mentioned, during that time, there was something in my inside that wanted to come out. I was compelled to write.
That thing that wanted to come out was my experience seeing a young girl I went to school with, getting on the bus I was riding to University, pregnant. Now, I know … wow big deal.
No, but this girl was young. She couldn’t have been done high school yet. I knew this because I was the same age as her older sister and the pregnant girl was younger than my younger sister. And I was raised quite conservatively. So seeing her was really tugging at my soul.
Anyway, I wanted to write because I had no one to talk to about the injustice I felt about “Kids Having Kids” which became the title of the article that spooked me from ever publishing my true opinion again. (That article was published in a local paper).
Ohh…the feedback I got from that article. I felt like a targeted lone ranger. Even my editor, I felt wasn’t as supportive as I expected him to be. Nonetheless, that was one of my why-I-started-to-write.
(Break again…cookies and milk time with the fam.)
(Back from Break…I could scroll up but I’m going to choose to continue from what I can see on my phone screen.)
(I can hear footsteps…it may be another Have-to-Attend-to…I hear the washroom fan and the toilet seat down and coughing in the washroom…indication of my 5-year-old brushing her teeth…yes I know 🙂)
I write because I have something to say. I write because that’s how I was built. I write because…it is true to me.
I observe. I analyze. I imagine. I create.
(Writing room door open…)
I write because… it is my form of Love.
Staring at this cursor thing blink, I ponder… what’s next?
I say…what’s next is yet to come :).
One goal this year is to finally get that courage back that was spooked out of me years ago…and that is to write HONESTLY, TRUTHFULLY (are those synonyms? Did I just repeat myself?) and because I LOVE. And…to PUBLISH.
I imagined that I was standing atop the highest diving board at Seven Oaks Pool or maybe even Pan Am Pool. I look down. Its a dark blue. It’s a lot scary. Like really a lot scary. Like why I am on the diving board anyway? I should turn around, climb back down, and call it a day…maybe never return.
I imagine I’m still standing there. Still scared.
But I could feel it.
The feeling that I can do it. I can jump. I’ve got what it takes. I’ve always had it.
I will jump.
I look down once more.
I back up to the end of the board.
I say my prayers.
Hold my Breath…and…
My SMART Writing Goal for 2017:
PUBLISH 1 BLOG POST between the 18th and 22nd of EVERY MONTH for THIS YEAR.
Cheers, Hi-Five, Saludé to what’s to come in 2017!
(This was written especially for you, Reader, Explorer, Inquisitive Being, or even, Mr./Ms. Forgetful, on the 18th of January 2017.)