Writing is terrifying business. Writing is turning yourself inside out, making yourself completely vulnerable to anyone who cares to take a jab at you. Writing is taking a risk that some thought, some motive you weren’t ready to share with anyone but the limits of your skull, might make itself known by accident.
When you write, it is hard to escape your motives. Your truest nature, why you tick, why you choose one word instead of the next, it all becomes transparent when you take pen to paper, fingers to keyboard. And the more you write, the more dangerous the deed becomes. Hey, Writers, you can run but you can’t hide.
But isn’t it exhilarating? Doesn’t the aspect of danger keep us going-keep us from staying within the confines, and comfort, of our own mind?
For all the apparent risk, the rewards are even greater. When you allow yourself to write, to unlock what is in secret, you also risk the chance that someone out there might relate, might teach you something, might hear exactly what they needed to hear in that one passing moment of their life. You risk the chance that you might discover something hiding away, that needs addressing.
In our minds, we are so original, so one-of-a-kind. On paper, most of the time we are a lot like everyone else, when you get down to the meaning behind the words.The act of writing may be cause to shutter a little, but in our minds, alone, the risks are much greater. In our minds, we go in circles. There is no place else to go. On paper, we can go in any direction, because we allow the opportunity for someone to respond-to have a reaction. At the very, very least, maybe a thought will bounce off of someone else’s and return to us in a slightly different form, expanding the circles in our mind.
Your mind is the scariest place to be. In writing, there is at least the hope of freedom.