Writing Truth to Power
Lately I’m more driven to write. This tendency has always waxed and waned throughout life, but in the aftermath of illness, much is moving through. I’m witnessing myself more fully and feeling a need to express the things I witness.
Yesterday I got an email from an editorial member of a growing platform, informing me that they wanted to feature my writing alongside big names like James Clear, Simon Sinek and Mel Robbins. It’s the second email I’ve received from her. I paused, took it in, then deleted the email. While I’ve been a writer for the entirety of my career, I’ve mostly been paid to write specific industry-related content, whereas here I write for myself, for my family, for posterity. I feel like I’m still honing my voice here, and this voice may not be suitable for a larger audience. I’m not sure I want it to be. And I’m definitely not interested in promoting my work. I had years of that in both my writing and yoga journeys, and these days it feels quite unnecessary to my soul — inauthentic to how I wish to be. I love how things change!
One big rule for writers: READ. Read often. Read widely. I do read often, but I read specifically. I read mostly about spirituality, about the nature of God, and about the lived experience. I love to read things that make me feel something, and oftentimes when I read — especially words of the saints and mystics — the words land in my body more than my mind. It’s hard to explain, but as someone who’s studied and practiced embodiment for a long time, it seems I’m beginning to know as much cellularly as cognitively. It’s become a compass, a practice, a peek into eternity.
In my contemplative practice this morning, I realized that I have always marched to my own beat. In younger years, that marching was quite ego-based — I wanted to stand out. But as I’ve grown older, I see that marching to my own beat is about being authentic, and feeling good about who and how I am. There is peace in authenticity.
On the other side of standing out/being me, I also have a great tendency to hide parts of myself that feel like they won’t get approval. I have various views on life that don’t fit the mainstream. I am a woman from the midwest, living in a conservative state and have a sleeve full of tattoos. I make my own clothes (and others can probably tell they’re handmade … I’m not ‘star’ seamstress). I listen to relaxing spa-like music most of the time. Sometimes I listen to chanting monks or the music of Hildegard of Bingen, a 12th century German Benedictine abbess who was also a writer, composer, philosopher, mystic, visionary, and medical writer/practitioner — wow! I enjoy a quiet, contemplative life. I’ll often stay home to walk in the woods, read or create something instead of partying with a group of people. Spiritual practice is part of my every day. These are all huge parts of me that I rarely talk about with others because they aren’t popular topics of conversation. Perhaps writing is the most comfortable way to let myself be seen, heard and known.
As I continue to unpack what all of this means, it feels important to write to have a concrete record of life’s journey. There is nothing special about me, and yet all things are special about me. The same is true for you, as a beloved child of God. I am worthy of expressing myself through words because aliveness is a gift, and we should all embrace the parts of aliveness that feel natural and true to us.
Mostly I write to understand and to see myself more clearly. I write to uncover what’s hidden in plain sight. And these days it feels important to write in order to be fully seen — to begin to step into the me I’ve always been, who’s hidden herself out of fear of judgement.
Photo by Nienke Burgers on Unsplash
