THANKS FOR SNOOPING..."It's just flipping incredible!!"

One of my current favorite authors, Emily Freeman, encouraged her readers today in a guest post on Jeff Goins's blog (jeff@goinswriter.com) to use their art: 

"Courage is not the absence of fear. If you wait to feel courageous before you release your art, you might be waiting forever. The more we live from who we most deeply are, the more courage will grow."  (Emily Freeman is the author of A Million Little Ways and Grace for the Good Girl: Letting Go of the Try Hard Life).

And since I was probably in 4th grade, I was NOT courageous enough to label myself as an artist in a way I defined art then: painting and drawing.  Secretly, however, I knew I enjoyed writing.  I didn't really claim it as an art, however, until high school.  I never claimed to be good at it, but I spoke best from my head and heart with a smooth pen or pencil (Now, of course, I use my laptop because thanks to typing class in 6th and 7th grade my fingers can fly as fast as my mind.  What does that say about my mind?)

I have told others who have encouraged me to turn my art of writing into a book
(ahem: Mom, Chris, Peggy, Kim, Rick, Cindy) that I didn't have any idea what I would even write about.  I also added that no one would want to read my lacking authority on any particular topic and unofficial commentary.  I defended these  thoughts with anything that I had to say has probably been said before.

Then yesterday these words trickled into my head that I had actually spoken to my friend Laura on a walk in Terre Haute, Indiana, when she didn't see any need to attend a Bible study on a topic that didn't relate to her.  I remember telling her that she could never know when this information might just be something she would need to share with someone.  I told her that her perspective might just be what God would grow in her through this study that someone else might need. Obviously, I was trying to coax her into attending the study. She didn't see it as for her, but I was telling her that what she learned may not be for her but for someone else.  (Who knew these words from my mouth would be for my very own ears over ten years later?)

Emily Freeman added later  in today's post these words which totally resonated with the thoughts I had yesterday about my art of writing: "There is courage in connection — with your truest self, with the truest self of others, and with God. If practicing your art brings you closer to this kind of connection, if it allows you to be vulnerable in ways you weren’t able to be before, then your art has not been wasted."

Okay, so my art of writing certainly has made me feel vulnerable and mostly to myself because there it sits with hope, but HOPE for what? I have written from shaky fingers, heavy heart, teared eyes, stirred soul, anxious thoughts, irrelevant ponderings, and just about every emotion in-between. And to be honest, I don't know the answer yet to that question: but HOPE for what? But I have never thought hope was a waste, so I won't call my writing a waste.

I have written blogs that readers have commented have moved them.  Readers have even taken time to reflect and comment on their own world, many times with great passion and eloquence.  Some extended concern and worry,  wondering if I was okay after reading my thoughts.  And I would say that all revelation is good in honest writing, and if I am very honest in it, you may be positioned to peak beyond the wall into my vulnerable space. 

Some days that space you peer into  may be messy and others very clear.  For me, my writing helps clean the cluttered thoughts on the floor of my mind.  It helps to organize an sort the essential from the peripheral.  It infuses me with that vulnerable choice of courageous commentary or common cliches.

So today's blog is just a quick thank you to those who have been moved by my art. It seems weird to thank a person for being moved.  But being moved is an intimate, slow sink into the the words on my page, a soul resonance and connection with my personal ideas, and a discovering of self in my thoughts.  If my words do that, I am face on the floor thankful.



The idea for this post came from a couple commentaries on Facebook about my latest blog posts.  When reading it to my husband, he had the same reactions as I did, "Hey, that just may be your best critique yet." I exit this post with cheers to those who have been willing to snoop around my words and have encouraged my art.

Here are yesterday's comments from two valued readers.

Cameron Cornell:  Did you write this yourself?!?! It's just flipping incredible! Like, seriously!

Leslee Chambers: LOVED reading this tonight. Every word captured my attention and my heart. Thank you for sharing. Beautifully written.

Comments

Ric said…
Your thoughts today brought a smile to my face. So thankful you are enjoying this experience. Keep it up.
Anonymous said…
I wrote a great reply and then seaching for a site I lost it. Oh shucks. It seems the beauty of the moment passes so quickly. Yes I love your creativity and look forward to reading it every day. I am amazed at your talent with the word but not surprised. You are a creative artist waiting to put yourself into a book. The written word has been my first love after my mom. It sends me to a magical world like nothing else. You have a talent for finding words and ideas I have never imagined before. I become completely under your spell. Each day I look forward to reading what you share. There isn't a writing artist that is not afraid to send out his or her fragile world in print. It makes us very vulnerable. And very bold. I love you ma