You Only Need One

There is a curious and uncomfortable thing about writing that I find liberating.

Trying to be your everyday self while allowing the voices under the surface, above you, or around you to appear on the page is impossible.

This is why writing with nature helped me rehabilitate my yearning to write. I grew up with confidence in my ability to write creatively, until freshman an English composition class required me to organize my swirling ideas into a framework I had avoided for all of my education. I didn’t care much for structure, and fought against conformity in all things creative. I didn’t have any writer role models really, but I did have a teacher that helped me believe I could write.

You only need one of those, but more is better.

Writing comes from a place that is invisible, and not just creative writing. You have to find yourself in a rhythm where the need to understand yourself or make sense of things is quieted. The recognition of symbols and meaning can become stories when we allow all of ourselves to be part of a creative discovery process.

You need a practice that allows your native lens and voice to be seen often enough so that gradually you begin to believe what that teacher did for me so many years ago.