Writing for me has always been a silent voice, a friend that helps to rid my mind of what clutters its corners, what runs willy-nilly through it clouding my view. There has always been a preponderance of thoughts, emotions, ideas, and questions littering both my mind and soul.

Writing breathes life into ideas, it wrestles my emotions into words, and helps me see my feelings, share them, and confront them. It gives me power, words have power to heal, to hurt, to give birth to ideas, to forgive, to root hope in places of darkness, to shed light on truth. To bring people together, and yes even drive them apart.

I enjoy the power of my words, the power to give faith, to share hope, to share emotions, to give love, to stand for what is good, right. To share truth, to build a foundation of faith in the world. To help people find their voice, to find their strength and truth. To help others heal, to feel they are not alone in the darkness of their struggles. To be able to express sadness, gladness, happiness, love, and grief. Words join us in ways that make us feel more, feel a part of each other, of life. Words are how we communicate with each other. We are at heart social creatures, and we use words to be heard, to be understood, to give insight and inspiration.

With words comes a responsibility to know their power, to use them for good, for truth, for helping, for kindness, for faith… the power of words was explained to me as a child thusly: Be careful what you say, words can hurt, what is spoken in anger can’t be taken back only forgiven. Words can destroy and words can heal and help, choose yours wisely….

Writing for me is this; I enjoy letting go of words, the writing helps me let go of what hurts me, what holds my mind hostage in times of trouble, it helps me heal what hurts me, and it helps me see my feelings….