The Hardest Thing About Writing

The hardest thing about writing is feeling like the words don’t simply flow from my mind to ink and paper (or computer as it is these days). Some days I feel creative and other days not so much, but I like to believe that I’m filled with words that need to come out, words that are creative and important, words that move people in a way that music does for others.

I have always loved to write. I remember the first creative writing course I took in high school. My teacher encouraged me, inspired me, challenged the way I wrote. She pushed me to go beyond what I thought I could do to create in a way I didn’t realize was possible. She managed to tap into that creative part of my sould. The deepest part that sometimes has a hard time expressing itself.

Over the years writing has become more challenging, and it feels less creative. I have often wondered if my life is not as inspiriting as it once was, or if the way I tapped into that creativity changed when light came into the dark places of my life. I know that in some of my darker moments in life, I have found my writing to be the most creative, but it is also the most dark, and sad. As God brought light into those dark places of my life I felt like my writing became too forced and frilly, it was no longer the raw, unfiltered stuff.

Over time I have come to say that I just don’t have time to write like I use to, but the reality is that I’m afraid to write. Afraid that I’m no longer the creative person I once was. Afraid that my words are dry and that I have nothing to say. Afraid that my writing won’t be as good as it once was. I have found many excuses to keep me from writing, to keep me from creating, and growing in my abilities.

No more excuses. The hardest thing about writing is myself. I need to get out of my own way, step aside, write, and allow my thoughts to flow without editing what comes out. I have been inspired to write again and encouraged as I have found writing challenges that inspire me and give me a diving board to spring from. Now I’m on the platform, stepping forward, and jumping in. Head first, eyes closed, fingers free to type.


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