so I do this thing when I’m about to write where I become the people I write for. and naturally these people are the critical ones, those who say- oh yeah, she must not be a native english speaker (as if that’s a bad thing?!) and she has no original thoughts. yup, those are the folks reading my writing.
I’ve written in my morning diary for nearly 10 years now, sometimes more sometimes less. and there I’ve established a sense of security and safety to be myself. I would love to feel safe and secure to share my thoughts with the world as well. ‘the world’ is you, the unknown reader. and we’re more alike than we think probably.
words flee and form knots. I’m far from my own feelings. what did I want to write about? so many things. it’s as if at best I’d like to hurl them all out in one breath. expel them. but this makes things worse, it is now my mind trying to write, manipulating the representation of my person, self consciously scheming a persona. My hands moving to write should facilitate my heart to speak.
I knew it would happen and I let it happen because I trust that this too is part of the process of writing more authentically.
so what’s my solution for a writer’s block? write about my writer’s block.