How To Fall In Love With Words and Find Your Way Home
I like words that drip like rain on a window.
Words that land on the glass
and make rivets down the hard surface.
Joining together to form larger impact.
Speeding up in the newness of their volume.
Or sometimes stopping, suspended,
holding their weight
pregnant with expectation.
Words that fall onto the hard, jagged places
and somehow change the view completely.
The words in my journal make me exhale, even now two years later. I am overcome not in any sense of perfection of the words or the form, but with the little note I wrote myself at the bottom of the page.
This is the writing that feels like home.
Eight simple words that remind me of why I’m here. Why I’m getting it wrong and right and still going without giving up. Why I can’t seem to shake this longing to string words into direct lines to the heart.
I’m looking for who I am. And this imperfect, uncertain crafting helps me discover pieces that real life pushes aside. Because the truth is that life is a bully and I’m tired of cowering on the edge of the playground until the whistle blows. There are parts of me that look different and feel deeper and will never fit in, but quiet doesn’t change that. It only hides it.
I would rather speak messy, raw, wrong words than sit quiet any longer.
Writing helps me remember and discover who I was and who I am. If we spend all of our time quiet, listening only to the things life yells at us, we forget. We forget who we are. We forget what we believe and what is important to us. But when we begin to connect letters and words to the core of who we are we get stronger.
And I don’t mean our writing gets stronger.
We get stronger.
We find ourselves.
We lose ourselves.
We breathe and live and exist in the beauty of who we are. We don’t have to be afraid of our own voice, no matter how weak and rusty it seems. Every word brings you closer to yourself.
Some days I get it wrong. Really wrong. Some days I stay quiet. Some days fear ties my hands and closes my heart. But some days are not all days.When you give yourself permission to fail, permission to do it wrong, you find the freedom to do it right. Click To Tweet
It may not be textbook right, but right for you. And right for you is really all that ever mattered anyway.
Maybe it’s time to remember. Maybe it’s time to write until you find your way home.
I am participating in the Writing Contest: How Writing Has Positively Influenced My Life. Hosted by Positive Writer.
Also linking words today with Holley Gerth and Jennifer Dukes Lee.
About Becky Hastings
I am emotional and logical. I am strong and dependent. I am a juxtaposition of head and heart exploring it all through writing. And in all my mixed-up ways I am loved. I'm here to tell you that you are, too. Just the way you are.