White space stretches wide.
Unsmudged whiteness glares.
How do you brave the icy page with ideas that might not even be fully formed?
By remembering this: writing is a come-as-you-are art form.
Writing doesn’t ask me to have perfect hair, a coordinated wardrobe or matching underwear. (Great life goals, yes.) Writing doesn’t even ask me to have ideas that are fully formed, perfectly ironed out or organized neatly in my head before they exit — a must for polite company.
Writing always gives you space to be yourself.
Writing only asks for you.
It asks what you’re thinking about,
and hoping for,
and daydreaming of,
(It also asks for happy grammar and editing bliss, but that’s a story for another day.)
It’s easy to forget. Before deadlines and publishing requirements and all the rules of the road crowd in, that writing is — in its first form — a companion, a sounding board, a listening ear without judgment (not even a quirky eyebrow) for
Before deadlines and publishing requirements and all the rules of the road crowd in, that writing — in its first form — is a companion, a sounding board, a listening ear that never judges. It never even lifts a quirky eyebrow.
It’s your free space to fill with whatever makes your heart sing.
To make magic only you can make.
To tell stories only you can tell.
Writing offers us a standing invitation to come as we are. To be me — frizzy hair, inappropriate comments and all. Life isn’t full of invites like that.
It’s always good to grab those opportunities when they come.
Don’t you think?