Many writers, when trying to express themselves lean into unhelpful thoughts.
Thoughts such as, “What do I know?” or “Why would anyone read my work?” or “I have nothing worth sharing.”
As a writer, I relate and empathize.
Amongst many reasons, this is chief of why I write about what I write about the way that I write about it.
It’s not just enough for me to write about creativity and the act of being a creative and achieving freedom.
Writing is so much about the human experience and letting go and just being too.
To me, the two are inseparable.
Because creativity — again to me — is an expression of self.
Even if it’s posturing.
There is some sort of underlying truth in the lie or projection.
To be creative is to bear parts of the soul, even if unintentionally and unknowingly.
When I wrote my story, To Know Someone is to Know Their Story and shared it on Medium, I had no idea that parts of myself were revealed in that piece.
To be honest, I just wrote from a particular place.
But the word choice, the timing, the sequence, and more all reveal little pieces of me. Of the person who put this picture together.
I don’t think any other creation is unlike this.
Although it may not be static or longstanding, some element of what you create represents a part of you.
Some pieces of ourselves we may be more proud to share than others.
Regardless, there are truths that need to be communicated.
Your individual story holds underlying universal truths to be interpreted and read.
This is why we must think of ourselves as inkwells.
No matter how much wisdom we feel we don’t have, there is something inside us that needs to be revealed over and over.
Some evolving truth.
It needs to escape so that others may see it.
Not agree with it, not applaud it, but see it.
You know, they may not even see it.
Because the act of seeing isn’t just about acknowledging.
It’s about recognition, being thoughtful about the source.
But as an inkwell, you need to exist.
You need to continue producing because you are living, and while living you are experiencing things.
Even if it’s something you don’t feel is worthy of being shared in art.
When really those are the moments in life that need to be revealed in art the most.
Because nobody talks about them, and there’s something about the unspoken that’s so human.
A truth that people resonate with that is so rare and so necessary.
It’s a collective nod and snaps people do with their souls when they read something about themselves or listen to a song that reveals the most flawed elements of us human beings.
It’s that portrait that shows stretch marks and wrinkles that has an undeniable beauty about it.
Yet these self-evident truths rarely make it to the mainstream.
But that’s OK.
Because being human isn’t mainstream.
Being yourself isn’t mainstream.
But I still challenge you to be an inkwell.
I still challenge you to share your honesty.
Not because you want to be mainstream or famous or known.
Be an inkwell because, among us, it makes it easier and easier for us to look at our own wounds and communicate them to each other, and see ourselves as connected amongst the crowds of souls.