Well, it's day three of my best friends being in Paris, my brother being in Hawaii, and me being at home, and naturally, I've been writing to cope. (I've got a big project I'm working on.) Now that my life is so un-busy it could be called boring, I've noticed that I'm perpetually itching to read and write. I suppose that may have always been there, I just didn't notice.
As of today, I've been blogging/writing every day since November 13. That means I've written every day for 7 months or 213 days. This writing project has taught me so many beautiful things.
Writing has taught me to think critically about my world: that the things around me are more than they appear to be and mean more than they seem to mean. Writing has taught me that I have a voice, and that when I'm willing and disciplined, that voice can be powerful. Writing has taught me what it feels like to be heard. Writing has taught me that relationships are built on vulnerability and that the more you really know someone the more you care for them. Writing has taught me about secrets and what happens when things are left inside to rot . Writing has taught me what to do with the icy acidic anxiety, what to do with flowing tears, what to do with untamed love, what to do with aliveness. Writing has taught me how to drop everything, take a break, and listen to the world around. Because it's in those moments - those moments when a poem or essay or blog post starts and I run with it - that writing fills me up to the brim.
And, writing has taught me to ask for help. Because I know that without feedback and critique, a piece of writing never gets above mediocre. And that might be the best lesson of all.
PS. maybe I love pinterest too much