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North Node

Write.

Write when you don’t feel like writing, they say. Show up and write anyways. Even when it doesn’t feel good or isn’t convenient, write. I hear that and I see it and I feel immediate resistance, why? Does it stem from childhood? The quiet nag that you’re supposed to be doing something that you don’t want to do. Even though it IS what you want to do but the expectation to show up and then underperform is overwhelming. Is it a personality trait? Is this ingrained into my DNA or cast down from the stars to avoid the practice as if it is an abusive partner waiting for me to get home to have the fight. That’s an extreme analogy, but I operate in extremes. It’s all or nothing. I’m in it completely or it doesn’t exist. Balance hasn’t been my ally, which is why carving time to journal has been a mental struggle.

Write. If it comes, let it go. I always have my most profound insights in the car. With no access to a notebook, unable to voice text into my phone. Having narrations echo through my brain with myself, I have had many epiphanies in the car. I never remember them accurately or can articulate them properly when I finally have access to write. Write anyway.

Everything that comes out of my mouth feels like garbled nonsense. I know it’t not. It feels that way. I have orchestrated many a beautiful conversation in my minds eye, only for it to fall short in verbal delivery. The heartache it creates. “If only they could catch a glimpse into my mind.” Then write.

I feel creative in my mind. I feel creative in my body. The physical and meta physical response I experience when immersed in art, is the only time I feel the electricity pulsing through my body. I’m alive. I’m open. I desire to one day be able to translate that feeling into words. For now, it’s indescribable. I’m still writing.

This has become verbal diarrhea, and I’m enjoying it. The stream of consciousness spilling onto the page. I wonder if anyone will read this, or want to read this, do I want anyone to read it? Of course I do, we all want to be seen in one way or another. Writing has always been my medium. Beautiful words paint an intricate picture open completely to your interpretation. Words cast spells, whether we are aware of it or not. Words are magic, cinematic, alchemic. The desire to be fully immersed in melancholic poetry, or powerful music is a collective experience. It’s why we feel connected to artists or musicians or comedians or authors or public speakers. They’re telling their story which feels like our story and everyone wants their story told.

So we write.

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