I write to be surprised.
By my own understanding, my own insight, my own inner, living breath and life.
I write to be surprised by the things I uncover.
I write to be surprised by the things I love.
I write to allow those things to nourish me. To fill me up and make me whole.
I write to connect with myself, with my ever present grace and courage and conviction that there’s more to life than what meets the eye.
I write to discover, uncover– and unfurl the layers. Of what it means to be both human–and Divine.
All at the same time.
You could say I write because I can’t help it. Sentences crafting themselves in my mind…in the bathtub, at the kitchen stove, sitting and looking out the window, while sipping out of / from my favorite mug.
Writing is the feeling of a dog sitting on your lap. The warmth, the comfort that it brings. The steadiness, the weightedness…the groundedness, and yet somehow free.
I write to be reminded of the freedom that is mine.
The freedom of expression. The freedom of the Divine. The freedom of all the desires and opinions, and perspective, that is mine.
I write to uncover my perspective, I write to understand my experience.
I write to frame it in a golden window, signed and sealed, and surrounded with golden light.
I write to bring light to the situations that haunt me — the feelings of sadness or despair.
In writing I find connection. A place where I can go to be connected to something more than myself…to the essence that IS my true self.
I write to discover guidance, and hear the whispers my heart as to say.
Go this way, not that way, are you sure that option’s for you?
I write to hear my inner voice, quiet and unafraid.
I write to hear the depths of my soul.
And to bring it out into the light to play.
I write to dance with the love that is mine…
And the love that fills my life.
I write to connect to the deepest part of me.
And to help bring more of her to life.