As a little kid I was always full of ums, ers, hmms, I don't knows, shrugs, and maybes. I was pretty indecisive. Still kinda am but it might have been worse had there not been circumstances that forced opinions upon me. Ever since then I have been bursting with viewpoints with no one to tell them to. Something about writing these posts has really helped me be able to speak my mind and not feel so overwhelmed. Writing has become my outlet for most everything. I only wish I'd discovered it earlier. It wasn't until well into happening upon misfortune that I realised whenever I was feeling strongly about something that had recently happened was when I could write magic. It just flowed through the pen and the words kept coming. Afterwards I would be left drained, completely worn out as if my mind were on a break, yet strangely relieved. Like somehow my writing things down confirmed the truth and made more sense.
I call it magic because in books that's how they describe it. If you try a spell too powerful it zaps all your energy, leaving you weak and helpless. Plus there really is a certain magic to writing. I can't think of a single person who doesn't like stories, whether it be through books or movies. They have power over us. I found this out in fifth grade, as it became my only trusted communication. I seemingly lost my ability to speak against or contradict anyone. In a sense, I lost my voice. Then I discovered writing. I was really angry one day with all these thoughts swirling storm-like through my head when I just got out a notebook and began scribbling words like mad. The product was neither pretty nor inspiring. It was merely to help me, which it did. The only problem was that my deadliest fear was for someone to read it. However much it might help, it felt as if it could strip me raw and leave me for anyone to gawk at.
It was like putting money in the bank for safe keeping. I'd write most often when I would otherwise burst and then I would be empty again until the next time. I collected a slew of these notes written in times of desperation, and put them all in a folder, hidden from prying eyes. Some might call it a journal, but it wasn't the ordinary kind with lists of what you did that day. Personal, yes, but the difference was that I didn't write about myself, it was me.
The village wise woman once told me that you need to make noise to be heard. People ignore you if you remain quiet. I have done my best to regain volume. The only thing is when you're standing in the same room as someone, you're not going to write notes back and forth. I mean there's always texting, but that's a little hard with a windy dial phone. Yet I've been learning more and more, that these kinds of things come from Christ, in his own time, and in his own way.
So, for now or forever, I will be a writer of thoughts, speaker of few words, and servant of faith. Don't ignore the tug to go and do what you love when you're stressed. In the long run you will have saved a lot of time that would otherwise have been spent reading same paragraphs over and over or ripping math problems to shreds out of frustration. Everyone can work their magic at times like these whether it be running, singing, making music, speaking, whatever. Find your niche and I guarantee that the results, if not pretty, will at the very least be from the heart which is a hard place to reach when you're not feeling passionately about something. Let it fly. One more thing; it takes practise. Remember that everything worth doing requires practice. In the beginning you might only last a couple minutes before the moment is gone. The more you practise however, the longer you will be able to stay in the zone.
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