Why have I not been writing? Good question. I have been wondering that myself for some time, and I’ve come up with nothing solid. No simple lightbulb moment that’s hit me in the head and said “oh that’s why”.
Writing is like breathing to me. Essentially, mandatory stuff to keep me alive and well. However, for some reason, the urge I once had to express myself was replaced with a preference for silence. A silence within me that smothered the words and the stories and the desire to share.
Was I sick of the sound of my own voice and inflicting my repetitive personal thoughts onto all of you?
Was I concerned about judgement, disapproval, or the misinterpretation of my message?
Perhaps it was a combination of all of the above with a bit of fear and a bit of “what is really the point?” thrown in.
Those who know me have born the brunt of my writing inactivity with a bombardment of new hobbies, adopted by my restless self to fill the creative gap. However like a dog begging to be taken for a walk, the words in my head would tug at my fingertips in desperation.
The fear of exposing my personal thoughts to the world was repeatedly superimposed on me by more than one source.
“Don’t air your dirty laundry in public”
“What is wrong with you?”
However that fact that I listened, is what stopped me writing in the first place. Ironic? Terribly. However as soon as I began hesitating before putting pen to paper, and as soon as I ceased being myself as a result of others opinions, judgements or expectations, I realised I needed to re-examine my sense of self and my reason for writing in the first place.
It is all over, when you change yourself to suit others-bottom line. FORGET IT! It just doesn’t work and pretending, is incompatible with happiness.
All that is uniquely YOU is lost. All that is SPECIAL is buried deep underneath sensitivities and self doubt and all of that ridiculous rot that has absolutely no place in the real, honest, raw world. The world that adores us for who we truly are. A world that pains for less plastic and more of the real deal.
What is writing anyway? It is simply connection.
Sometimes words connect, and sometimes they don’t…
What I have learned, is that when they do, it’s not only magical, it’s important. Connection is what keeps us alive. It’s what helps us feel understood, and validated and loved and valued. Cliché cliché cliché , bla bla bla…but I’ll be a monkey’s uncle if I ever, ever, forget that again.
For any part of you that you willingly share, be it only a part, will resonate with those that it is designed to reach, and that is all that matters…
So why did I stop writing?
…because I lost sight of what was important to me.
Are you unsettled?
Re-align your vision, listen to your own voice and allow yourself to re-discover who you are, what you need, who you want to be with, and what is truly important;