I started writing a long time ago to process my inner turmoil. My writing was fueled by a dark passi
I started writing a long time ago to process my inner turmoil. My writing was fueled by a dark passion, a frustration with the world and a sense that although I was following someone else’s preferred path, I didn’t feel empowered to just jump off that path either. . There’s a lot packed up in that statement and I’m still working to unpack it… but I have identified one thing: guilt somewhere deep inside. Guilt at my working limbs and lungs and brain. I studied enough philosophy to know that there’s no rational reason why I was born this way. I could have just as easily been born into a less wealthy country, I could be physically disabled. I could struggle with worse inner demons. I could still be forcing myself to follow the safe, expected path. I could still be living with the easier and much more painful existence I always knew, wrapped up in always and only seeking the next possession, raise, bigger apartment, faster car and thinking I’d find happiness hidden just there around that next corner. But I’m not. Happiness isn’t around any corner but a choice I make each day and each moment. . I learned how to write from a sad, emotionally charged place, and I haven’t yet learned how to harness my voice without that overtly dark pulse. Without that emotion, writing feels different. It feels like I’m starting from scratch, learning for the first time how to accurately capture beautiful or romantic or touching moments while still maintaining authenticity. In some ways, I think I feel guilty writing about these things. Who am I to be joyful? Who am I to be loved? I’ve been blessed with a working mind and body…don’t I “owe the world” more? . Which is all to say… I’m going to double my efforts to be kind to myself first and foremost. To coax out this new voice and welcome her lovingly into the world. I’m going to write things that don’t have a set publish date or purpose, things that I may or may not share. I’m going to work on accepting and acknowledging that there’s no reason for me to feel guilty for being at peace or being happy. Recognizing this insight isn’t the end point. If anything it’s quite the opposite: I’ve got miles to go. But it’s something. -- source link