Writing to me, was a natural act, like breathing, I wanted to write often I wanted a journal form a young age, feeling a bit shy about it because well at that time it was “girly” to keep a dairy even the word dairy felt less “manly”.
I am unsure but I believe I got my first “journal” (just a small book with clear pages) when I was about nine or ten, and I barely wrote anything in the book just drawing weird things and then when I felt a bit overwhelmed I would write things inside this book and it felt good, often I just liked the idea of this clear page and I can write something on it, so I wrote mostly about my family and our interactions.
I was giving a release to my heart with all of life’s questions, my heart spoke to me without me realizing I had a language buried inside me and I just spoke it, it came out by me holding a pen and paper, of course, I did not know it at the time, I was unaware that I was writing I just did because I did.
Writing is like breathing to me, you just do it, you feel it and know it is important but it’s just in you to breathe and that is writing to me.
No longer do I want to hold my breath no longer do I want to keep it shallow.
I know my writings in that book, would not win awards and the amount of spelling and grammar mistakes would of have amounted to more than the words I wrote, being that it was something I did without knowing I did I was unaware of the craft of it, I did not think even I wanted to be a writer.
Only at the age of nineteen or twenty did I discover that I want to be a writer, then my lack of skill made me believe that this is a fool’s errand, yet inside my heart poems and stories blossomed a garden that I could not tame nor controlled.
I had to push self-doubt aside, and write, I had to swallow pride and often it got stuck in my throat and choking on it I end up hiding, after battling all those emotions of self-doubt and fear then you sit down and write, it is that simple.
Most if not all the writers I have heard speak or that I have read about writing, have one thing the same, sit and write don’t move, write.
Now I have started figuring out ways I have improved my craft for myself as if I am a garden I walk in and discover myself for myself, it sounds so self-centered and yet it is one of the most unselfish things to do for discovering your beauty, you realize all have a garden a unique breath to breathe and in knowing yours, you can help others map out their own.
Now I am excited also to share how I have discovered to improve my writing, to share the process because I am still discovering it for myself not a master teacher, but a student coming home telling all his friends and family what he has learned.
Thank you all again for reading, just breathe and discover your garden.
Write to you, soon.
Peace and Love.