As much as I struggle to find them at times, words are as important to me as air. Writing is another form of breathing. Sometimes the breath is smooth and steady and other times it's hard and labored, much like life. For me, writing is a way to discover myself and articulate the emotions I'm feeling. It isn't always easy for me to do, articulate my feelings and emotions, but I do my best to try. Not only with myself but with those I love.
Sometimes the feelings are so strong that it's almost as if I'm being pushed to express them, to put them into words and to tell that person what I feel. Perhaps it's the Universe's way of communicating to them, through me. Maybe it's just that we don't say things to each other often enough. Good things. Nice things.
"I think you're awesome."
"You are beautiful inside and out."
"I was thinking of you today and just wanted you to know."
"You can do anything you set your mind to."
"I'm proud of you."
"I'm proud to be your friend."
Good things. Nice things. Things that make us not feel so alone or unnoticed.
Words are powerful and I am so grateful for them. They give me the ability to express my feelings and communicate with my friends and loved ones. They have the power to melt my heart, get it racing and make me think.
Writing brings me more joy and more sorrow than you could ever imagine. For instance, this blog post is not exactly what I had in mind but it'll do. It's somewhere in between the joy and sorrow spectrum. But other things that I've written, the short stories Her and First Ride, those bring me great joy because they flowed from my heart and onto the page almost effortlessly. It's those times when I'm most in touch with me that the writing flows in copious amounts and the joy from it follows.
So, today I am grateful for words and writing and all of the emotions and life that they both create and express.
I would hurl words into this darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of hunger for life that gnaws in us all. ~Richard Wright, American Hunger, 1977