True things and a lie
“Writing about a writer’s block is better than not writing at all.”
“I think I’ve forgotten how to write,” I find myself mumbling out to nobody as I pull another blank page up on my screen.
My intention is to sketch out some sort of prose meant for public consumption. Instead, I seem to be compiling a personal almanac of existential crises.
It’s important that I figure out some way to remember how to write, because my business has been built, in many ways, on the back of my writing.
No, wait. I think that might be a lie.
It’s hard, you see, because I used to be able to write quite well. But I can’t anymore.
That is definitely a lie.
The reality is, my penchant for writing has not gone anywhere. I still write all of the time. My writing has simply changed. It has evolved.
It has…grown up?
I think I liked it better when it was a baby.
Perhaps I’ve grown up, too.
I think I liked it better when I was a baby.
“The truth will set you free but first it will piss you off.” - Gloria Steinem
I may have forgotten how to write, but I recently wrote a response to someone who was looking for guidance around a choice they had made that felt good but ‘awkward’.
I shared that these things can sometimes feel vulnerable and awkward. In my opinion, that’s simply a part of anything that is true.
I love things that are true, though I don’t love feeling vulnerable and awkward.
Hold on. That doesn’t make sense.
Sometimes, I wish that I were immune to all of the uncomfortable feelings that go along with everything wonderful in this lifetime.
That definitely makes sense.
“Nothing is yours. It is to use. It is to share. If you will not share it, you cannot use it.” ― Ursula K. Le Guin
I have no idea if I’ll be sharing any more writing publicly in the coming days, weeks, or months. Maybe I will, and maybe I won’t.
However, I hope that your traversing through time is filled with remembering and truth.
I hope that you remember what you know and who you are.
I thought I needed to remember how to write. I didn’t remember how to write. I remembered that I know how to write. I remembered that I do write.
I hope that you bring more truth into this world by being unwaveringly honest with yourself and abundantly generous with others.
The truth is, I am scared of sharing sometimes. The truth is, if even one person feels seen in my sharing, it is worth it to me to face that fear.
And in full transparency, I hope that you’re okay if I just end it here.
I’ve sat here now for twenty minutes, staring at the blinking cursor, trying to figure out how to wrap this up.
And I can’t help but think that perhaps I’ve forgotten how to write.