I write almost everyday. Usually it’s nothing eloquent or profound; actually more often than not it’s nothing more than muddled words and loosely strung together thoughts and prayers. But I still write it down.
I started writing in a journal when I was in the 6th grade. It was my mom’s suggestion (and probably desperation) to help her high-strung-stressed-out-daughter who couldn’t really express what she was feeling. I filled pages and pages of journals.* The pages were safe to express my growing worry and insecurity. And those pages also kindly held my hopes and dreams without passing judgment or disbelief. Writing allowed me room to be me without having to filter through my own or others expectations of who I should be.
I know that a lot of what I write is not new. Someone else has probably already said it better and/or sooner, but I am learning that writing is not about impressing people or being the first to discover some great thought. Writing is about creating space to tell a story. To tell my story. Writing gives room for ideas and feelings to take meaning and shape, when they might have otherwise sayed buried somewhere deep within.
Henri Nouwen said, “We have to trust that our stories deserve to be told. We may discover that the better we tell our stories the better we will want to live them.”
This makes me want to write and live a better story. What about you? Do you like to write? What story to tell yourself?
(*yes, somewhere in some over-sized box at my parents house I still have these journals. And yes, I know one day I’ll have to throw them away)