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Hello, Invisible Audience.
You wouldn’t know it from my radio silence, but I’ve been
thinking about you. I think about writing a lot – truth be told, I do actually write a lot, although
clearly not much here, in this space, to you. It’s been years since I wrote to
your regularly, and quite awhile since I even wrote to you at all.
I’m not sure if this will be the start of more regular
writing, but I am a big believer in divine timing, and I woke up a couple days
ago with a thought: it’s time. It’s time to write again, out loud.
There are a lot of reasons I haven’t before now. I could
tell you all of them, but really, the details aren’t that important in the grand
scheme of things. I remember reading once that Joanne Harris, one of my
favorite authors, stopped writing a book once to have a baby. She said she
could either birth the baby or the book, and chose her daughter first. She
finished and published the book later. No, I haven’t had any children since I
last wrote, but certainly I have birthed a lot in the interim. But I digress. This post isn't about why I wasn't writing. It’s about right now, and how now it's time to start again.
I have to admit that I imagined I’d be different when I
wrote again. When I thought about it, I thought I would be writing from a place
of burning passion; as a warrior who has conquered her fears and her foes and
stands ready to impart words of wisdom on those who need the encouragement.
Well, that’s not what I feel. Instead, I acutely feel the chaos of the world
we’re living in. I hate news feeds and news because it makes me feel helpless
and hopeless. Many days I want to crawl in a hole and wait for the world to
right itself before I come out again. Nevertheless, it feels like it’s time to
write again, so maybe that’s never what I was supposed to be anyway. Instead of
having aspirations as a leader, all I can muster is a distinct inability to
follow anymore. I no longer hear someone speak with conviction and assume they
know what they’re talking about. Instead, I take their words and hold them up
to my own idea of right and wrong -- to my ideas of integrity, compassion and
bravery -- and I see if they gel. And frankly, I find that I’m gelling less and
less with what I hear around me – from anyone. Maybe that means nothing…or
maybe it’s the biggest sign of growth I’ve ever had.
It’s tough for me to feel like I don’t have all the answers,
or a way forward. It’s tough to stand in the middle of the fire and hope that
there’s a way through and a way out, even if I don’t yet know what it is. It’s
hard for me to say, “It’s time, I know it. I know it’s time to write out loud,”
and yet feel like I have nothing noteworthy or inspiring to say. My biggest
realization for this first post is simply this: I’m here. I’m confused. I’m
scared. Also, I’m hopeful.
Is that enough, Invisible Audience? It will have to be.
Cheryl Strayed said once that it’s no writer’s job to write the bestselling
novel; instead, it is our job to write the shitty first draft. Well, here it
is. It’s time. I don’t know what for, but I know that my words must once again be
written out loud. For now, that has to be enough.
Love and just in time kisses,
Morgan
