It's Why I Write

To say I am compelled to write, isn't hyperbole; it's the truth. When I put the words in my head to paper (digital or otherwise), I see you and I see me. I see us together, mucking around this life, trying to figure out our place. I see us separately, thinking we're they only ones feeling, living, experiencing the moment before us. Then, I try to connect the two.

It's why I write.

Is one born to a purpose? I think so. Being a writer, documenting what I see as it translates to our connectedness, is mine. I'm most myself when communicating the silliness/horror/mundane of what I witness through words. My whole life I've been holding up a mirror to life, waiting for everyone else to see the gleeful audacity, the bond between us, that I see. Do you see it? Over there. THERE! You do?

That's why I write.

We're in this together, trying to survive it all, trying to be OK, trying to trust that we're not alone. Dear God, we pray we aren't alone.

Sharing the bits and pieces around me, trying to make sense of seemingly random moments that turn out to be not so random, laughing at the absurd (so much laughing), hollering through the pain of stumbling, or being brought to my knees from the sheer joy of an answered prayer...it's all pinging between my ears, neurons exploding from what needs to be shared, waiting to be tapped out on a page.

We want to know we aren't alone, that our experiences can be connected, that we aren't just floating around this life for nothing. We crave purpose. We crave meaning. We crave understanding from someone.

That's why I write.

I'm compelled to shine the light on the threads that connect us instead of the vast gulf that divides us.

We are stronger together, no matter how terrifying the flying debris appears or how soft the landing cushion feels. We are stronger when we know we aren't alone.

That's why I write.

You are not alone. You've got me.