The idea of the French phrase Raison d’être, has taken me a whole day to process and put together. I still do not know if I have gotten it right, but here it goes for what I hope its worth, it’s some deeply personal and emotional stuff.
I have always been drawn to a pen and a journal. Even with all my electronics, I always have at least one writing journal in my bag, a long with one of my special favorite writing utensils. Writing started for me, as a way to express my stories and thoughts down, that I couldn’t reach so deeply or assuredly as my left hand to the paper in front of me. Through years of copious writing, I have never been left wanting for a prompt. As I have matured and gotten a bit more confident and secure, it was truly a blessing when I found my special writing voice. I know not everyone has one, or thinks that it is much different. Personally it was such a huge gift, writing is not just a passion or done on a whimsy. Writing for me has taken on such more powerful stakes in my life; it is no less than me taking a breath.
When I am unable to write, I simply feel I can not breath, and brace myself until the situation passes, when I am reunited with my computer or even a journal, to express, share and capture all that has been left dancing round this great scattered mind of my own. Interestingly enough, I have returned to school to get my PhD and no its not writing it very different. I felt very strongly regarding keeping my writing separate from what might be a career. Writing is my passion, it motives me to feel, to think, to capture with my eyes, descriptions I must than turn into words. That in itself took a long time to develop, a natural tendency to experience and record the world through my words. In so many ways there are a lot easier trails, but nothing I have ever done, as come close to this writing I do.
I have so much I yearn to say, and yes through academia, I have a chance more often than not, to work on a special piece for a course. There isn’t anyone who knows me very well, that isn’t used to seeing me with my journal and pen, or typing away furiously on the keyboard. I start my day around 1 am and call it my maniac’s hours. For it is during this time of solitude, that some of my best writing has occurred. I love the entire writing routine; the one we all figure out for ourselves. It wouldn’t be the start of a new day, if I didn’t start by sitting at my desk, with a newly bought coffee to sip, with thoughts swirling around in head. I just revel in the moment each day, I got another chance to be me, and when I am done sometimes I am so surprised at what I said, or how I chose to introduce a topic. No two days of writing are ever the same for me.
In this world I am lots of things; most of us can share that same truth. But writer, it stands alone unto itself, for without it my voice will go silent, and my fingers dancing upon the keyboard will just stop, and I know if it ever happens, I will never be me who flourished so brilliantly through all the years writing was bestowed upon me as the world’s greatest gift.
BORN THIS WAY-2016