On Writing.

There’s something about writing.

It’s like I get all these words and thoughts and feelings and questions swirling around in my brain and the only thing that calms it is putting it into words. Because by wrangling it all into a form that can be read and understood by others, I also start to understand it for myself… and own it, and wrestle out the things that need to be wrestled out, decide what needs deciding…and move on. 

I’ve missed this. I have so many things swirling.

And there’s a rush of pleasure, bringing order to the chaos; pulling the words out of the swirling to make sense on the page, it’s a relief when just the right words fall into just the exact right order to convey perfectly what it is I’m thinking or feeling or longing for or dreaming.  I imagine it’s a similar feeling when a painter looks at the completed canvas, when it reflects back to them that thing that was in them that needed to get out. This is my art form.

And I couldn’t possibly care less how many people read it.  Maybe I’m just writing for my mom. That’s fine with me.  Maybe it’s a writer thing, but if there are words that are in me that need to be in the world, it’s just my job to put them into the world. Whether or not anyone reads them is not up to me. It’s a relief when we can let go of the pressure to control things that are inherently outside of our control.

I wrote at krissyonmercy.blogspot.com for eight wonderful years, some of the best words that have ever come out of my fingertips. I’m so proud of them, of that season, of the challenges I faced and conquered, and of the person I became as a result. But also, the change didn’t stop when the season did.  If anything, it’s accelerated.  When your life feels defined by the current moment, whether it be your Peace Corps service, the raising of small kids, the art you’re currently devoted to, the work you’re pouring out while living on a ship, or whatever else, it can feel as though that defining thing will always be the defining thing.  But then, as it does, the sun rises and the sun sets and the years pass and we move into the next chapter or season or space, and the events that once defined us turn into that one thing that happened that one time, and life continues on.  

Let Us Begin has been perking for awhile. That fateful trip to the Kennedy museum was November 18, 2017.  I’ve said that I believe there is a book in me to write someday; maybe it’s called Let Us Begin, maybe it isn’t, but when the time is right it’ll happen. In the meantime, I’m excited to have built this new thing that more accurately represents the person I am right now, where I can share wonderings and wanderings and ponderings and anything else that feels right.

So I guess that’s all to say, I feel a push inside of me to engage with my art in a more intentional way, which feels a bit scary and vulnerable and exciting and hopeful, all at the same time.  And the words that keep ringing around in my head are exactly this: Let Us Begin.  So this is me, beginning this next thing. Thanks for joining me.