“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
Too often have I neglected to write because I was stuck in my logical mind. I’ve found myself entangled in the futility of seeking answers and explanations: “Why is everything this way? Why is it that way?” I find myself asking.
When instead I need only to dip my toes in the stream, get my feet wet and become completely engrossed in what God is doing. Life is a stream. It is flowing into a greater existence that I call “The heart of God.” We need only to stay in the flow. How simple is that really?
We need to remember to breath and return to the elementary principles of just existing in gratitude. This stream called life flows seamlessly on, whether or not I am flowing with, and I do not wish to miss a glimmer of its beauty.
Flowing Vs. Forcing
I am naturally a rule follower…a religious person. However, instead of fiddling around with rigid religious principles I’ve challenged myself to look up and remember that God is smiling at me through the clouds and embracing me in the wind. I’ve challenged myself to remember that Christ is expressing himself through all this beauty. He is not doctrine. He is freedom. I do not need to brainwash myself with principles. I need only to open.
And lo. The block is gone. My heart is open and I am free to return to my origin. I am completely emptied of everything and I yield myself entirely to my maker so that I may bleed his heart on paper. I was created to be inspired, not to have my voice suppressed by blockage.
This is how I write. And hopefully, this will be how I live.
To my readers,
I am wishing you ultimate freedom to create and be inspired.
When was the last time you sat down to savor the intellectual satisfaction of an author of old? Classical authors such as William Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and F. Scott Fitzgerald are the pillars on which our modern concepts and inspiration for writing have derived. They have given validation to a wide variety of approaches to writing as they each possess their own “voice”, and depict the era in which they lived in their own particular way.
I do not personally prefer Shakespeare’s writing over the others, although as a playwright, when his pieces are enacted on stage, I find myself completely and utterly captivated. I can appreciate how ingenious he was in that he was able to romanticize tragedy over and over, without it coming across as gory as it ought in reality . My only critique is that I think he could have chosen more simple language and used less metaphors where they were not necessary. I do not like literature where every other line has a meaning that is twice as deep as it sounds. It only leads to headaches and for me it’s plain annoying to say the least.
There’s a lot to love about Emerson however. Emerson’s writing has profound truths scattered throughout his pieces, and are masterfully written with a touch of poetic humor. For example: “Finish each day and be done with it, you have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense. (Emerson; Self Reliance and Other Essays.) Just in this very saying I feel that he is laying a very vital foundation to peace of mind and tranquility. Here he has written a very profound truth, with such eloquence and gravity as to imprint a most settling conviction on the reader’s intellect and heart, and yet it is written subtly enough that one does not feel preached at.
My only critique to Emerson’s writing was his pessimism, and yet even that is not able to be considered a sin really, because writing has always been most rich when it is most authentic. Although he is not my favorite of them all, I tip my hat to him because in many ways his writing has grounded me. Even his pessimism has taught me that constant joy is not always realistic. He’s taught me that a healthy dose of self-reliance is necessary in this world where every man is more interested in his own pursuits, over the welfare of his neighbor. In essence, it is “every man for himself” in this life , and as harsh as that sounds, my reality has aligned perfectly with that perspective.
My Heart For Women who Aspired to be Published In the 19th Century.
We all know that women in the United States and in Western society in general, have for the most part fought and fought to be acknowledged and to have their writing and other works viewed as equal importance with men. Women were considered not only of of less importance, but of less intellectual value than men! After all, they were made to be masters of all things domestic, not really to have a voice in the world; or at least such was the ideology of the time.
Lately I have been chewing on some good little bits of poetry by Emily Dickinson. My, is she interesting! I’ve yet to decide whether or not she will be at the top of my list of my favorites, but she is simple and insightful. She has a knack for verse poetry, as opposed to prose like some of my other favorites, and I admire her for that distinguishing factor. Another area of praise, is her ability portray death as desirable. Some have argued that she lived in constant fear of dying, but her poetry helps the reader to become increasingly more comfortable with the fact of the matter. Death is inevitable, and perhaps we it should not be so daunting.
Writing is not what they taught us over and over in school. We were taught that academic vernacular is always most appropriate, but were not always exposed to the proper resources to expanse our vocabulary. In instances where vocabulary was nailed into our memory, it was done so routinely, and according to curriculum that there was little room to really understand the words with one’s soul. Writing is being connected with your soul, and intellect, and it is in that very connection where the magic happens with the pen. We must study classical authors (at our leisure and for our own enjoyment) in order to grasp how literature and the meaning of “good writing” has evolved over time. We must know ourselves. If we do not know ourselves, we cannot have a voice, and without a voice, our words are drowned out into the noice of other authors, voices and literature that are plain average and have not left their mark on this world.
You define your own writing as much as you define your own identity, and in doing so you allow other that same freedom.