Please Read These Words

Yes folks, the title of this post is the time I’m writing it.  You might call this lazy, but it stems from the fact that, for me, this “blog” thing is a creative writing exercise.  I sometimes have a subject in mind that I want to write about; or,  more often than not, I just click on “new post” and start typing. 

So what’s on my mind today?  Well, let’s just say that it’s been a little weird to have some actual people commenting on my writing since I put an actual book out there for purchase.  I sort of used this blog site as a training ground for confidence.  I put stuff on the web, not telling anyone that it was here for a long time.  I think the fact that people could have read it if they accidentally found this site was enough for me.  I’ve said for a while that I enjoy writing, but I never said I liked the idea of people reading what I wrote.  That’s just plain terrifying…  Or used to be.  It still gives me a sick feeling but I do it anyway. 

I have written many a sentence that kept me from throwing in the towel.  The process of getting a notebook and a comfortable pen, and watching the pen puke out the demons on a coffeehouse table has healed my soul sickness again and again.  I also learned to type in 8th grade and it seemed to stick.  I’m amazed that my brain can tell each finger what to do, and I don’t even have to look at the keyboard.  I’ve reached that point where entire words just appear on the screen as soon as I think of the word.  Amazing. 

I guess my point is, if I didn’t learn to type, I might not think stringing words together was nearly as fun.  Typing gives us instant access to what our thoughts might look like in a book.  And I like books…  especially ones written by other people.  I’m still learning to appreciate my own words, and I’m simultaneously trying to stop caring.  For instance, when I look at that phrase, appreciate my own words, I get that sick feeling.  Really?  There are people dodging bullets in Palestine, and I’m worried about self-appreciation.  I’m reminded of a Stuart Smalley Saturday Night Live skit making fun of self-help gurus or psychotherapists.

Anyway, kidding aside, words are indeed thoughts and observations about the world I live in, and the world I believe others inhabit.  Words are important.  I am important.  You are important.  We all are.  I came to the conclusion that I write because I love life, and whether or not it’s good enough is not the point.  We all have songs to sing and stories to tell.  There are way too many songs and stories underneath headstones.  Humans are here to sing, dance and sit around the fire enjoying the glow of our faces, laughing and crying together as we share the days’ experiences. 

Thank you to all who have encouraged me to keep stoking the fire.