“Anything worth thinking about is worth singing about”

Bob Dylan

I think I can write.  Wait, yes, I can write.  I just don’t always know what to do with what I write.  Maybe just putting the flow of words on the page is enough, for me, for clarity, for questioning.  I struggle with what I put on the page, this blog entry, my journal, being enough.  I get caught up in my own internal measuring stick of expectations of self that freeze me in my tracks.  I pre-order what goes on the page.  I embed it in the stone of expected perfection.  My pen freezes and that’s the end of it.

“Anything worth thinking about is worth singing about” says Bob Dylan.  Well, I can’t sing, just ask my kids!  But, is anything worth thinking about worth writing about?

I would have to answer yes.  To write is to write.  The struggle to value my voice, to find it, again and again, on the page, even between the lines that manage to find themselves flowing from a pen unfrozen by I know not what is worth it.

Do not be your own worse enemy.  Do not silence yourself before you even put thoughts, ideas, questions, revealings on paper.  You may find yourself writing things you don’t remember writing.  They may be “first drafts” or need to go straight to trash and that’s ok.  Yet, they may hold a thread of something wise, witty, or revealing.  Exercise with your pen in hand.  Just write!

Who is your writer?  Sometimes you may not recognize her.  Other times there may just the tiniest hint of knowing her.  You may ask, “Is this me?”  “My true self?” “Where did she come from?”  “How did she come out from hiding?”

She comes out, I think, when I realize I’m less in charge of her and I realize I am her scribe and she writes the words, not me.  Note to self:  Just write!  Every day!  Is it worth it? Yes!