“In my religion, we are taught that every living thing, every leaf, every bird, is only alive because it contains the secret word for life. That’s the only difference between us and a lump of clay – a word. Words are life, Liesel. All those blank pages, they’re for you to fill.” ~ Max Vandenburg, The Book Thief
I was talking with my writing group about why we write. Aside from the all too human need to make a mark on this world by creating something, on a selfish level I acknowledge that I do what I do because I want to matter through human connection. But there is more to it than the psychological need to be heard and urge to leave something behind. I write to find meaning and purpose for the suffering and the madness I see all around me.
“Life is never made unbearable by circumstances, but only by lack of meaning and purpose.” ~ Victor Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning.
Why I feel a need, and a responsibilty to write here in this space is a bit different. If I possess the empathy, intuition, experience and deductive reasoning, and the means to communicate effectively and with compassion, I believe I have a responsibility to do so. To reach out and help others learn how to use the tools that I have. I’m no expert in any of this and I only ever speak from my heart but I hope my words effect change somehow, for someone.
I write to be a part of transformation.
On February 6th 2014, four days after I stopped drinking alcohol, I started this blog. My two-year soberversary is fast approaching and my January posts, inspired by fictional philosophers who’ve inspired me with their bad-ass thoughts, is a way of celebrating my journey. I hope, in turn, to inspire you on yours.