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The fear of writing that I felt when I started writing vanished. I never noticed that I liked writing, didn’t really think about it, until I started blogging. Maybe writing has been something that has been waiting inside of me to be let out. Like a caged-up animal, waiting for the chance to be set free.
But then, when it was set free I feared it. How could I write in a language that’s not my mother tongue? Should I try?
I had an interesting conversation with a blogger recently, who said she cannot write for a while because she lacks imagination. That was my biggest worry at the beginning. Do I have what it takes and what does it take? Do I have enough imagination to write about everything? And more importantly, do I have enough experience to write about my life?
Do we write what we lived through, or do we compose imagination? And more importantly, do we have to choose?
I believe we can do both. Some days I can close my eyes and daydream a story, a made-up reality that exists only in my head and it’s flowing out of me. Then there are days when my life and the adventures I lived through over the years take over, and I start writing while thinking about my past.
I love writing and blogging, it allows me to lose control. No matter how much I plan, something inside me takes over, pushes the fear aside, makes it to the surface, and ultimately leads the way.
After years of controlled writing, when I only translated what others had written when I was not allowed to improvise or maneuver on my own, I am now permitting myself to lose control. No rules, no strings attached, no limits, no boundaries. Just a white screen and a cursor waiting to be moved, by me.
Writing is an adventure and I never know where it will take me. Sometimes it is a flight into the unknown, other times a nosedive into my memories, and occasionally both clash against each other with a roar that can be heard only by me.
I suppose that’s what I love about writing the most. Not knowing where it will take me. With no end in sight, fearfully hanging on to everything at first, then letting loose and enjoying the trip.
As soon as my fingers start flying over the keys, I get into a trance-like state where anything is possible.
For me, writing is freedom, inner contact with myself, and flow. I love writing because the process sometimes surprises even me.
When I write, I play with time. I can stretch or condense it, or I can write in real time – then the written time passes at the same pace as the reader reads it. That’s one of the things that excites me most about writing. The rules of physics are suspended, and I determine the course of time.
I love writing because it allows me to connect, touch and reach people. I play with the words as a composer would play with the notes. I can encourage my readers to resonate with me and if they accept my invitation to dance and open up, I can touch them – I can give them, this time with words, the assurance that they are not alone.
I love writing as an act of giving and sharing. I feel inwardly balanced, fulfilled, and at peace after writing. Writing cleanses the cobwebs of my mind. When I write, it often feels like someone is cleaning my brain with a feather duster. I see much more clearly afterward. I have given something, and although the reader will not receive the text until later, this exchange has already taken place within me. Writing is communication and writing for myself is also the art of thinking clearly.
Perhaps one of the most exciting phenomena in writing is finding the so-called “narrative voice” or “one’s own voice”. In the beginning, I didn’t even sound like I had a voice, but over the years, poof, suddenly I realized that I had actually found my voice while writing.
The voice however is different, depending on the context. I am the clown, the comedian other days I come across as a thinker and thought-provoking. Depending on my mood, I let it all out. Sometimes I whine, other days I shine. I laugh and I cry. I fear and I dream. It’s all there, inside of me, laid out in the open, for all to see.
It puzzles me to see the many layers I have in writing. I can just hope they shine through in real life as well.
I enjoy writing tremendously. (See I had no idea this post would happen today.)
My fear of writing is gone, I didn’t slay the dragon, I tamed it!
And I am so glad you tamed that dragon! Love to read your posts and see your pictures, always something good in your blog!
We benefit from your freedom
“As soon as my fingers start flying over the keys, I get into a trance-like state where anything is possible.” It’s been a while since I felt that trance. You inspire to return to the dragon who lies waiting. My muse beckons me.
I love this post Bridget, and it only goes to show me more how much you have matured in your writing. I can really see a difference in what you write, and how you write, compared to earlier posts. I enjoy the swings and roundabouts of your words. Sometimes funny, often serious, perhaps scathing, or tongue in cheek, but always enjoyable and pertinent. Carry on writing and enjoying it, there’s so much more to say. After all, you’re still a youngster!
Very nice, you have expressed feeling I’m guessing many people can and will relate to. I recently went back and looked at my first posts and the difference is astounding.
We can ‘read’ the growth, isn’t that something.
It’s really cool to watch the improvements.
I have never been afraid of writing…though I don’t recall a time when I was forced to write and had nothing to say. Even as a kid I loved writing assignments, particularly those that allowed me to express some emotion. I like to make sentences that sing…if I can. It’s one of the things I love about blogging, a place to put all the writing that’s inside me. Even if no one reads it. I’ve gone back to see stuff I wrote in 2008 when I started, or 2015 or 2020 or last week and enjoyed most of it the same as when I wrote it. Sometimes I’m surprised that I wrote something. Do you ever find yourself surprised at what comes out of your fingers? I think I turn my brain off and just let the fingers fly once in awhile.
I think our surprise is the icing on the cake. Not knowing where the journey might take us -even if we write an essay, based on facts. It’s the uniqueness of our minds that allows us to see things so differently, even if it’s all the same.
I am glad you enjoy our old blog posts. Thank you for writing, and thank you for commenting.
I often navigate that precarious line of “write how you feel, write what you want” and “what judgements will I be comfortable with if I write how I feel, how I want”. Sometimes, it takes a little practice to get comfortable with the decision to write like a free spirit, and as you get better at “not giving a hoot” about others’ judgements, you become more eloquent and more authentic almost my default.
English is also not my mother tongue but funny how I express my most innermost thoughts and preoccupations best in this language. It is where I am most comfortable.
I express myself the best in English, which I find very interesting. I think it’s because we use it every day. I think in English, until I read or listen to something in a different langauge.
Being comfortable while letting go, I think that’s the key to writer happiness. 🙂
Thanks for stopping by.
This makes me evaluate my feelings while writing