Thursday, May 19, 2016


It seems my voice has been drowned out by my own thoughts.  The busier I become, a slave to my own ideals and expectations, the more I seem to push writing to the wayside.  What purpose do my words play in the big, old blogosphere?  I don't know.  I don't know that even matters.  However, I do know I will not find my true, authentic voice unless I write.  I will only be silenced by the onslaught of picture perfect Instagram posts, followed by links to blogs that inspire and make me aspire. . .but stifle my onslaught of words.

Sometimes it seems my words are all I have to offer as a gift to a hurting friend, a confused child, an angry person, or my best friend.  Writing for me is an undisciplined practice, a dream that was born in my heart as a child who filled journal after journal with stories I now share with my own kids.  Where did that dream go? Did it die because it wasn't practical?  It wasn't an easy feat so I locked the memory in the deep recesses of my mind?  I don't know.  I don't know that I'm the same writer today, anyways.  Fiction seems a far away avenue that I wouldn't even know how to begin.  I'm an avid reader, but a writer?  Not so much these days.

Is it a book contract that makes ones words matter more than someone else's?  Or is the writer offering a glimpse into their world that should be accepted as an invitation to understand them from their perspective? Again, I don't know.  I do know I've been silent for too long now in this space.  I also know that my thoughts don't stop just because I haven't written any of them down.  So today I write some words.  Maybe tomorrow I'll write some more.


Rebecca Chapman said...

Modern day life and everything that comes with it, social media especially, makes it so easy to compare ourselves and feel like our voice is insignificant amoungst the masses. But i think all our voices are significant, theyre just significant in different ways and to different people. Some people get a book contract and some don't, but our voices matter to those that love us and theyre significant to ourselves.

deeps said...

Yes writing is an invitation to discover oneself more…