Sometimes when I show up to write I can be plagued with negative thoughts.
“Why are you taking the time to do this? No one is going to read it anyway.”
“What do you have to say that has not already been said.”
“Aren’t you just adding more noise and digital clutter to the world.”
I don’t entertain these thoughts long but they are still annoying little pests. But it helps me to return to the heart of why I write.
I write for me.
I write because I love to.
I write because it brings me joy.
I write because it is insanely therapeutic regardless if anyone ever reads it.
I write because there is something magical about putting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard that unlocks things in my heart that I did not know were there.
I write because it is restorative for me.
I write because I hope that it will be restorative to another person out there.
I write because it brings greater freedom to my soul to share my struggles and joys.
I write because it is in me and it feels like it has to come out.
So I show up and put it out there and release the results. I know what a gift it is to my heart to just show up. If it is meant to be more like in the form of books or greater audience then it will be. But I don’t live in a place of angst to struggle to make that happen. I prefer to keep my peace and just show up and surrender the rest. Then the negative thoughts pop up like “then your writing will never make an impact if you don’t do something to get it out there.” “this is a waste of your time and others.” But I recognize them as lies because I believe a way will open if more is for me. And it is a lie to believe this was time wasted. The process is life giving to me so I just keep showing up.
It feels really weird to admit to myself that I am a writer. One does not become a writer only if there is an audience to critique and praise it. It feels like a part of who I am. I love to write therefore I am a writer. 🙂
cool picture from Hannah Olinger from unsplash.com