When I first started writing, I had something to say.
there was steam to blow off and pain to let go. there were feelings to sift through and thoughts to sort out. there were memories to record. there were days to number.
Things are different now. I don’t have something to say anymore. I recently wrote to a writer friend and told her I was wondering whether or not to stop writing altogether, not forever, but just for a while, to live some more life before saying anything else.
I’m feeling the need to lay low, keep my head down, and focus. I don’t know if it’s the stage of life or motherhood I’m in or what. I think it was Jim Elliot who wrote,”Wherever you are, be all there.” This is what I want right now. There’s nowhere else I want to be.
She told me one of the reasons she writes is to partake in The Great Conversation. She didn’t put it in those capitalized terms, she just said conversation, but I think I understand what she means. She said that for her, writing is a way of being a friend.
Her simple words put things in a totally new perspective for me. I might not feel like I have something to say anymore, but writing has never been all about me, as much as I’ve fought against it, and as much as I’ve tried to keep it there. Writing moves people.
I’m in a different place. I reached out to people I didn’t even know, and people I didn’t even know reached out to me. The comments, the likes, the contacts, they all meant something. It wasn’t much, but it was all we had to offer. It was everything we had.
It was something more to say.