There’s this whole process to it, but I wouldn’t say it’s that complex.
I’ve always been a thinker. Some have categorized me as an “OVER-thinker”… And I tend to agree. I quietly contemplate when something means a lot to me.
When a specific something pops into my head and feels like an a-ha moment, a lightbulb moment if you will, it consumes my thoughts and takes over my heart. This could be something that brings me immense joy, a heart full of gratitude, a belly laugh, or a passion for change.
From there, I think of every detail about how that thought connects to my experiences, my family, my aspirations, my emotions, or any other area of my life. I think about it all through the day. I analyze it. I ask myself questions about it. I run circles around it in my mind as I wash dishes, drive the kids around, fold the laundry, do my workout, cook dinner, and eventually lay my head down on my pillow at night.
In short, I allow that one initial something to dig deep down into my soul in a way that compels me to write.
When I’m writing, I’m thinking of one person. Maybe not a specific person that I actually know, but a figurative person that I feel can relate to whatever I’m writing about.
Then, I bare my soul to her.
As I sat in a kingsize bed surrounded by white, fluffy pillows and blankets at our hotel in DC a few weeks ago, I paused and stared intently at a huge piece of art that was on the wall.
Written artistically in the outline of Alexander Hamilton, were these words that he once penned:
“Men give me credit for some genius. All the genius I have lies in this; when I have a subject in hand, I study it profoundly. Day and night it is before me. My mind becomes pervaded with it. Then the effort that I have made is what people are pleased to call the fruit of genius. It is the fruit of labor and thought.”
Now let’s not get ahead of ourselves. No one is calling me a genius here. Certainly not. I struggled through every single day of school and college.
But I can relate to his process. I can imagine him thinking on that one specific thing, day and night. Even when his wife and children were unaware. I can picture him plotting it over and over again in his brain as he ate his breakfast. Or as he went about his day doing whatever Alexander Hamilton did every day.
That is such a parallel to my writing.
I think on things, deeply. Not so much in an analytical manner, but in one that causes me to examine even the very depths of my heart on that matter.
I write about the things that move me to tears. I allow them to do so, so that I can eventually reach the light at the end of the tunnel, and find healing in the ultimate resolve. Which of course, is always something that in some way has a happily ever after.
And yes, I may throw in a recipe, or some other informative post here or there, I love to share those things as well!
But the writing that compels others, and reaches them on a profound level, comes from my own deeply felt, soul-revealing process. That is what brings me right here to my laptop to pour out my heart through written words.
So I guess being a person who “feels deeply” and “overthinks” isn’t such a horrible thing after all.
What compels YOU to write?
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