It is hard to put into words. Writing has always been a way to bring out what is hiding inside. The insecurities, the pain, the worries, the lessons I have learned all take on a different persona when I see it in print or on my posts. It is a way of releasing what I need to release to move on.
I also relish the free reign my mind has to go to places I wouldn’t do as a person. Yes, it takes me places and the fantasy world is lit up and full of radiance as I dance there for a while. I have the ability to let go of things I have been holding inside and it gives me an avenue to look at it with different eyes, from a distance instead of right smack in the middle of it!
Writing has helped to calm the beast that I call my mind. An hour or more of writing and I walk away feeling calmer and my insides cleared of the clutter that often resides there and sometimes I am given a blank slate to start over again but it doesn’t happen all the time because I have too much clutter and it is going to take a long time before that part happens.
Writing is about stepping into a different role. One of observer rather than having lived. Not sure if that makes sense. I take on the role of observing, dissecting and making sense of what has transpired AND how to make it better. The act of writing helps me to go deep within and to get it out there so that my inner being can breathe again and in the process I hope my writing helps others who have walked the same path I have.
The joys of writing are plenty but for me it is my way of helping my psyche to deal with things and the other thing is, I get to paint pictures with words! If you can picture every detail as you read, the colors, the sounds, the feelings and much much more, than my writing has done what it started out to do.
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