by MaryAnne Brown
Art is inspiring, music lifts the soul, dance frees the spirit. There are so many ways that the creativity of others feeds life, and I need them all. But one of the most vital for me is the personal writing of others, be it poetry, some form of personal essay or simple journaling.
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As amazing as professional writing is in its many forms, there is so often a distance between a reader and a professional writer. Though we may relate to a character or learn something new, there remains a disconnect between professional author and audience.
For me, the realm of personal writing has always been different. One of my university professors taught a course on the history of women’s journal and diary writing. Extant writings are precious because women were not typically allowed a voice as published authors or seen as authorities on much of anything. But it was my professor’s main thesis that will forever stick with me. She said that this type of writing—journaling and daily records in diaries—is life-saving. The documenting of everything from daily minutiae to one’s inner-most private thoughts has saved many a writer throughout history. But those same writings have often then had the miraculous effect of also saving those who are able to read them. There is a connection made possible by the prosaic, quiet sharing of writers who don’t consider themselves authors. We can relate because we are also living prosaic, quiet lives.
I have heard you speak about your own writing with uncertainty, hesitation and sometimes harsh critique. As much as I wish you would not judge your words, I recognize you are far from alone in these thoughts. Such worries and anxieties are a common theme in journals throughout written history. I have them too in most stages of my writing process. I’ve come to believe that such doubt is just a part of creative practice.
But I hope that you have moments of satisfaction and delight in your writing because, no matter what you think of your words in those moments of doubt—vulnerable, boring, painful, too honest, mundane or even banal—I crave your writing. I need your words. Your words connect me to you and you back to me, and settle into my heart so that I can find my own words later. Your words create space for mine. In my need to see us reflected in each other I am crawling through the desert to the oasis of your words. So please, no matter how you feel about your writing, please, never stop writing, and, if you’re able, please, please share it with me.
MaryAnne Brown first came to Callanish in 2009 during treatment for genetic bilateral breast cancer and has been coming ever since. Now in remission but living through unexpected permanent side effects from treatment, she continues to benefit from having been able to attend two younger adult retreats, a writing retreat and a regular retreat. She is forever grateful for the honesty, vulnerability and kindness shared in Callanish circles that encourages her to show up and participate no matter how low her energy is. The cookies help, too!