Last night in class, I loved reading out loud the piece I shared with the class from Terry Tempest Williams, Why I Write. It felt as though the writer captured the essence of why I write. It has taken years for me to believe what I have heard all my life, "you're such a good writer." I don't know why it's hard for me to believe it. Writing seems to come naturally to me.
Sometimes it feels like there is an invisible pipe connected from my brain, to my heart, to my fingers on the keyboard. (I rarely write with a pen anymore.) The words form, they flow, in a natural rythym the words course through this invisible pipe and onto the page. I do suffer writer's block at times. Usually when I feel stress about an assignment, I worry myself to complete distraction. I put it away, try not to think about it, procrastinate, do everything but write. It's weird. But when I let go, move into a stream of consciousness, thoughts begin flowing, meandering, and I am making meaning out of air, of nothing, creating, it's like magic. I don't play sports, but I think it's like when Michael Jordan would get into his game. No one could stop him. He was in the zone. That's how it feels when the words are flowing through my magical invisible pipe. Writing just feels good. It feels right. Maybe one day I will have the courage to call myself a writer.
Curious whether any of you feel the same way?
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