They say write and the words will come.
And in a way, they are right.
But what if they aren't right all the time? What if, in order to say it hot and say it piercing, you must wait? What if your words need to simmer and boil and gain the courage to show their face -
- what if we need to sit in the tension of the undone?
I don't know much about writing. I only know what works for me and I'm learning that a large part of this writing life is just showing up and praying for words, but there's a bigger part - a hidden understanding - that a lot of good writing is waiting for the words to burn in your chest.
If you write, if you share your words, don't just throw them on the page. Give me feeling. Give me fear. Give me holy and broken.
Whisper prayers and let your fingers fly across the keyboard because the words have found their home.
But don't give me checkpoints. Don't give me bulleted lists and hollered beliefs. I want the quickening - the inspired - the fire in bones.
- this is why i write. More importantly, this is why I read.
I'm tripping a little through this new season. At times I feel like I'm grasping for words and a lot of moments I stare at the screen wondering when they will come again. I'm meeting deadlines and learning how to wear those ideas that make me cringe - marketing and networking namely.
But, despite my lack of words flowing through my veins, I'm learning to wait. I understand there's a lot percolating - motherhood, publishing, stretching into this skin of artist I've found myself lately - and if there's anything I'm not willing to do it's cheapen these experiences with halted words.
Perhaps it's my reading of Rilke - I refuse to come of age as a mask. I pray daily to say it hot and piercing and holy and broken. And until I feel those embers spark, I'll rest in the undone.
Today, I'm linking up with my sweet friend Emily and her imperfect prose. Will you join us?