To begin is to start.

To begin again is to start over.

Over the years, I’ve had a wavering relationship with my writing–in all forms. This is something I believe all writers, whether aspiring or established, undergo, but it feels like a heavy, solitary burden when put on oneself. I have grown to be proud yet still am immensely hyper-critical of my work. I’ve yearned for curious eyes to read my pieces, yet wanted no accountability for the creation and all of its flaws to be traced back to me. On multiple occasions I have begun a blog, under an anagram pen name, in hopes that it would free me from the trepidation of having my innermost thoughts and sentiments exposed in such a public manner. Does it work? Mostly. Does it last? Never.

Heart Over Mind
So what am I doing now, you ask? Trying again. Starting over. Starting anew. Beginning again. I’ve always held a space for writing in my life but my creativity ebbs and flows like the tide with the moon. Goldberg inspired me to reframe my relationship with my writing and make peace with the thoughts that just yearn to be released.¹ Yes, admittedly, writing can frustrate me, yet it also fires me up. In a creative flow, I view the world in new shades and patterns and hear the unsaid tones in a conversation’s pauses. I feel every blade of grass through my shoes and relish in every breeze that cools me and my temper. The taste of the mundane changes and last night’s cocktail dances with this morning’s coffee on my tongue. Even everyday scents that once blended together, now separate, and I can tell the sun is rising from the smell of dew on the grass atop the crisp morning air.

Mind Over Matter
In a new chapter on this perpetual journey, I am choosing to take ownership of my writing in a conscious decision to improve my self-expression, document my memories, and understand myself and the world around me. Gladwell has stated it takes 10,000 hours to master a skill², but if writing is a process of communicating one's human experience, then it, too, is multi-faceted and I may not have the time to encounter all its sides, let alone perfect it. I do aim for this platform to be tangible evidence of my slow and steady growth as a writer and a person–at the very least, I can take what I observe and highlight its simple beauty or ugliness. Even if I never gain any traction or audience, perhaps unbeknownst to me, I will inspire a rippling wave of change or deeper human understanding, if even in just one soul. We always seem to need more of this, nowadays.

What Matters
To those reading this, whomever you may be, thanks for allowing me the time and space in your day, as the thought alone of you simply reading this will encourage me to no end. To the self that wrote this and intentionally began again, after putting the pen down so many times, thank you as I always enjoy this to no end. And, ultimately, that is what matters.

1. Natalie Goldberg. Writing Down the Bones. Boulder: Shambhala Publications, 2016.
2. Malcolm Gladwell. Outliers: The Story of Success. New York: Little Brown & Company, 2008.