Each morning, I wake up and start my day by making my coffee, taking care of the cat boxes, and then I take my meds, take out the trash, and I think this is the day I will start writing.

This is the morning brilliance spills from my fingertips. I think they will fly across the keyboard with the grace of a ballerina and sparks will fly out of them as I set the world on fire with my words, but sadly, each day passes, and I do not write. This, sadly, seems to be my problem.

My lack of writing words down, or typing them out, is what stops the story from coming forth. I fear failure, I fear my words will not be good enough for others to read, so I do not write again this day, or the next, or the next. I freeze. I stare at the blankness before me and stumble. I give up before I even try.

What makes me give up so easily? I did not fight a good fight and lose; no, I did not even fight. I did not try to write at all. I sat in darkness and avoided words. Words that hold such magical power. They can create, or kill, or perhaps take us to different lands or continents. They can teach us new skills, or pass down stories told through our family’s generations, but I stop typing.

I have a BA in English, so at one point I did write. I wrote without worry. I wrote with abandonment and shared it with anyone who would read it, but now, now I sit and stare at the blank screen. Writing can help us through pain and grief. I wrote an article about my mom passing away, and writing it gave me some clarity on how I was feeling, how much I missed her. It allowed me to wallow in tears and survive through the hurt and pain.

Writing can help with any issue you may have. I tell people all the time, “Write it out.” When you put pen to paper or type on the screen, you get a different perspective on whatever situation you are dealing with. Writing gives you a way to move through life’s difficulties. It allows you to put everything you perhaps would not tell others down, and you can reflect as you go. You can reread it three, six, or nine months from now.

My view of my mother’s death has changed with time. I went from she was taken to soon to I am truly glad she is no longer suffering. Writing allowed me the time and space to see that no matter the distance or time, love lives in my heart for her always.

You may be new to writing, you may have written for months or years, but however long it has been, know we all started at the beginning, and we are all doing our best to keep on moving forward.

Words have a way of moving us along. They take us from where we were to where we are. They allow us to leave a cookie crumble to find our way back to an emotion or a day.

Whatever you write about does not have to be magical. It only needs to be of benefit.

We all started in our writing journal at the same spot, the start, and it is up to us to continue writing. Some of us may give up, some of us may decide we hate writing things down, but however you move through this writing life, know we have all been where you are, and we welcome you.

This is your journey, your writing, your words. May they be of benefit and may writing be of benefit to you!

~