Good Morning Everyone!
I am back in blogging action!
Before we get started, check out today’s Song of the Week for an awesome Bon Jovi tune!
Now, where was I?
I have been having a hard time deciding what to write about. Do people really want to listen to my inner ramblings? Is my writing any good, really? Am I helping anyone at all?
Even if the answer to all of those questions is a resounding no, should I stop writing? Another giant NO!
Writing is so therapeutic, whether anybody reads it, understands it, likes it, or not.
I am not an expert at anything other than being myself, but I have stuff to stay, I have a voice to be heard, and I write words to be read. Even if I’m the only one reading them.
When I was younger I wrote poetry about loves I never experienced, heart break I never knew, and poured out feelings I could only imagine. As I grew I matured in my prose, spilling out angsty tales of my parent’s divorce and my overcoming cancer. It was real, raw, and maybe a touch pretentious. I put away my pen and paper for a decade when I became preoccupied with real romance, education, working three minimum wage jobs, and living my life slightly recklessly.
In the last couple of years, as my body has failed me yet again, I traded in my pen and doodle covered notebook for the ease of a laptop and click-clacked my feelings for hours. That is how my journey into blogging began.
I realized quickly that there was a place for me in the sea of chronically ill folk. My folk. Folks who get me.
Folk is an underrated word.
Every time I experienced a symptom or encountered an awkward situation, or felt the weight of my illnesses about to crash down on my fragile body, I just typed the letters until they became meaningful words that only my people would understand. And they did. They responded so strongly I felt, even if only for that minute, like I was less alone. And isn’t that the point of this anyway?
Isn’t the point of writing, reading, listening, being alive, to connect? To realize we’re not all walking this earth alone?
It would be a huge disservice to ourselves and each other if we seclude ourselves and muffle our voices. Because you might have a story somebody needs to hear.
You might be the answer to someone’s prayers. You might be the one who can write the words to someone else’s story. You might paint the canvas of someone else’s life. You might lend a listening ear to someone who needs to share their soul. You might be the hope for the hopeless. You might be the one to inspire the world.
And even if you’re not, isn’t it worth a try?