The Weight of Words

For most of my life I have hesitated to express myself, to put words to how I feel, what I want and what I am doing. Though I often doubt that anyone is actually interested, the main reason is that I fear rejection. I think it is only "safe" when I have the right diction, imagery, tone, proper syntax and iambic pentameter, etc.--basically if I am a natural Walt Whitman or RobertFrost. Thus, I am intimidated and have rarely ever ventured to write this way unless forced in school, which was only occasional. What I lack is courage to write, to feebly attempt articulation of what is vague but pressing on my mind. The simple advise in Finding Forrester that "the first step to writing is to write" challenges me but has also freed me to make mistakes and wonder at the weight of words. I wrote this last spring while having coffee in London reflecting on how arduous making a simple blog post felt:)

New Birth
My writing emerges from a pregnant mind and heart
Slowly, painfully with both fear and excitement
Anxiety of what might be-too soon? Too late?
How will it be received? How will it resemble me?
What trials might it face?
YET
The wonder always wins out
It’s finally here! What will it look like?
What life will it lead? Who will it meet on the way?
Whose lives will be impacted?
Oh, what a treasure! This is mine, my gift to the world.
No matter how it is received by others
I will always claim, value and love it
I wonder, truly wonder at one thought made real…

My words arrive so vulnerable, weak, dependent,
The letters are naked and messy
The phrases so full of erratic emotion, fearful of
This new world, being constrained to pen and paper
Yet bursting with potential barely contained in its new form
They are so feeble, foreign yet formidable with each stroke
Simultaneously taking a life of its own and giving to the lives around it

New writing, new birth
Filled with the same expectations, hopes and dreams
Met with the same scrutiny, overwhelmed expressions
Though small, it seems to shake the world
A product of a couple, familiar with a few, yet distinct from all
The sounds form tone, the words structure, the phrases meaning
As they crawl, and walk and run into being
And oh how they run!
So bold, so free, so full of unadulterated wonder
Not completely understood but monumental in every way

AND the writing grows like any child I suppose…

Editing would be the rough adolescent stage (identity formation, acceptance)
Publication would be the hard earned, but sweet adult stage (satisfied, validated and valued)
And then parenting! -how words meet, bond and amazingly create new words, new birth…again
Hmmm, I wonder…(and so I write!)