Would You Write It to The Wind?

I was asked to think and write about some questions that were posed to us recently in a writer’s workshop that I regularly attend. The questions were if you could write something deeply personal, would you write it to the wind, to one person, ten people or a stadium? And would it make a difference?

How can one learn, grow and expand through the act of writing and how does sharing one’s words matter? I’ve mentioned before how vulnerable an act writing can be. This writing workshop I attend is unlike most. It focuses on finding freedom through the act of writing. It’s a personal and intimate journey with our own words, that sometimes we keep for ourselves and sometimes the words turn into works that we want to share. I am often surprised at what is unearthed from the depths of my psyche or forgotten experiences through this workshop. Through the act of writing.

If I was asked this question a year ago, pre-COVID, I would say my words would be shared to the wind, or perhaps one person, if I was feeling brave. My words were self-contained. I'd say that my words were sacred and who was I to share them? How would they be taken? How dare I be vulnerable? No way, no how. Too much judgement. Too much of being seen.

But I am being asked that now, and the answer is different. Now I say, I write what’s in my head, in my heart and in my soul. My words are still sacred, but now I have the courage to let them fly free. I release the words to one person, ten people and the stadium of social media and the online presence of who knows how many. To websites, to blogs, to sites like Vocal Media. To the world. I let the outside take in my words, for they no longer belong to me once released. They are on the wind, like little doves released from the gilded cage, sprinkling other readers with thoughts, feelings and opinions. And how it touches them is for them, and them alone.

It feels different now, from then, because I am not as attached to other’s opinions and yet to be seen is a heady thing. It’s a dichotomy. To let go of the personal attachment and at the same time bask in other’s compliments and feelings and their feedback. It’s like I’ve opened up a part of me for others to see, even for me to see that had been otherwise denied or forgotten. The truth and authenticity of my words, my personal power in this form colors the truth of who I am. The words are in a state of being, at the moment of conception as the words are birthed. And although they might change an hour or a day later, for that one glimpse of the unveiling, the sacred truth, my sacred truth, is revealed in the unfolding of the now. When the words escape onto the blank of whiteness.

This is freedom, in the form of writing. Letting the words fall out through my fingertips on to the page with out censorship, with out judgement, and allowed to fly. This is growth and expansion. This is the journey of creation, of creatives and creativity. This is the journey of one writer. And I wonder with all the other writers who I’ve met through vast communities, how their writing has grown and changed in the last year of 2020 to 2021. Through the expansion of our world and society through lockdowns and change and fear and self-growth and online communities. How has their words helped them to grow? Have they let their words fly free? Have they found the freedom within the constriction of the global pandemic when forced to spend time with themselves?

My hope is that writing has been a source of comfort for them as it has for me. That writing has helped them become more of who they are meant to be, like me. If you could write something deeply personal to the wind, one person, ten people or a stadium would it make a difference? My answer is, if the act of writing those words helped you, then it was a win. If you found freedom, clarity, growth or expansion, then it was worth it.

And if by chance you decide to share your words, then the difference is hopefully at least one person out there could relate, could be touched, could look at something from a different perspective, or even perhaps be triggered and given an opportunity to grow through some hard truths. But you’ve released the words. They no longer belong to you. They are of us, but now the words belong to themselves, like little birds pushed out of the nest.

Free.

Like me.

And hopefully, today or someday, other writers too will find the freedom of their words too.

Thank you for reading. If you like this article please heart me, share or check out my other blogs on my website here.