A bit more Realistic?

I find it very difficult to write these days because it feels like I’m unable to offer anything new to the world by doing so. This isn’t coming from a place of self-loathing or insecurity, it’s more the realism when faced with an entire world of writers and bloggers who have their own voices and identities, who have made their mark by being known for writing about certain things, and it seems like there isn’t a space left to squeeze myself into. Why does the world need another self-professed “writer” trying to “make it” by talking about her feelings and thoughts to her close-knit group of writer friends and close friends?

Perhaps it’s a little self-disgust. I used to have these grand ideas that my words could heal, save, inspire, challenge, change, influence, but I’ve since became very practical about this world. I have come to realize, writing is not the be all et. all of my life, though still retaining the embers of what was once fiery passion ( see the overly descriptive words?). Maybe someone will be touched by something I said, maybe someone’s life would be more impressed by a thought I wrote, but there are also a lot of people that don’t read, and I need a way to engage with them too.

There are days where I still believe that, for myself at least, writing is the best thing that I could offer to a world. It comes from the thought that you are best able to make the most contributions to the world when you live by your talents. And writing, had been what I was told my talent was.

But in the years since I’ve discovered writing, I’ve also come to discover that we don’t just have one talent, and we shouldn’t have just one. I’ve discovered I also have a great capacity in my being to be passionate about many other things, animals, God, education, my country, support against racism, sexism, helping people, public health, sustainability, the environment… I can develop the ability to speak well to crowds of people, or be very funny, or be intelligent, and that sometimes the skill comes before the passion. We often don’t explore something because we think we’re awful at it, but I had been challenged to do differently, to purposefully do the things that I’m bad at, but have always wanted to do.

and all this involves me being more than a “writer” and for me to offer more than words. Advocacy and activism comes with being an entire “being”, an individual that is more than the sum of its parts. Personally I dislike loaded words like “activist”, ” vegetarian” or “Christian”, because these things have come to denote and connote some very negative things, but I am these things (the vegetarian bit is for another story), and I’m going to take all that comes with it.

All this comes with having a completely new belief that I should only write the things that would be of use to someone else. Perhaps its because I’ve developed a kind of disgust with the things I think about and concern myself with, or the idealism I used to have in believing that anything I put out in word could come to change anything. Because the truth is, I am not yet, “somebody”, and the moment I strive for significance is when I lose all significance.

I think I’m growing, or rather I NEED to become someone that is going to do more active, engaged, type of help, one of action to supplement the words.

People that believed in me had encouraged me that my voice does matter, simply because it is mine, unique and irreplaceable, and I do believe that, but I also believe there is tremendous power in being ordinary, or pushing character before anything else.


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