Why Do I Write?

Words bounce around in my head. Thinking ahead for a conversation I might have with someone later. Reliving a conversation I have already had. Imagining scenarios that will probably never happen. A text I need to send. A reminder to myself.

Sometimes the words show up blurry, as an idea develops. Certain words swirl around until they land in order or begin to take shape. I have a vague point that I seem to be circling, but I can’t quite snatch it from the air just yet. I have the ingredients for the final product but that is all they are until I give it what it needs. Time. Silence. Clarity. Effort.

Some ideas just need to marinate a little while, you know?

Sometimes they flit away, gone as quickly as they came.

Other times, lightning strikes and all the sudden it’s there.

If I don’t put them down, the words can drive me insane. Too much noise inside my head, too many undeveloped insights. I can’t know how I truly feel about something until I can see it written in front of me.

When those words are written by someone else, but manage to clear the clutter in my own head? Those are the ones that get my attention. Those are the writers for which I am thankful. The ones who seem to have the same nonsense bouncing around in their heads but manage to articulate it. These are the ones I follow. Writers who take the bag of scrabble letters and place a board of beautiful words in front of me, organized and straight. Connected and clear. Saying all the things I needed to say but couldn’t get past the noise. Helping me hear the still, small voice beckoning me deeper in, that is why I love writers.

That is who I want to be. To help others block out all the noise around and pick up the quiet whispers from the Word. To be the articulator, the organizer, to bring beauty and peace to others’ lives.

I write for my own sanity, but I share with hope that I can help yours.

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