My own
Image used.
“I
am participating in a Writing Contest: and it’s all about:
How Writing Has Positively Influenced My Life ~ Hosted by Positive Writer.”
How Writing Has Positively Influenced My Life ~ Hosted by Positive Writer.”
Memories are sometimes beautiful and often painful...
but in my opinion they are oh so necessary, and help to make us who we are...
Addressing the question, in what way has writing
positively influenced my life?
I am showered with immense possibilities...
Mist
descends as my mind becomes a black and white film-show; it takes me back to unimaginable
years. Bleak rooms, with bad people... I
owned a voice that was never heard, and an imagination never nurtured but despite
all of that I miraculously possessed a burning desire for the impossible. In dark
days I walked a lonely path where I made up invisible friends. It was only when
I learned how to read and write that I sensed real magic. As a child I stayed
with that magic as reality was cruel. I recall making lines and circles, and
then pretending to write amazing stories, I could be whatever character I chose
to be, but always I wanted to be the mummy. Some years later I was surprised to hear that
the authorities believed what had saved me, was my gift of holding my hands
over my face to pretend I was invisible.
When
I was fifteen years old I put pen and
paper away, I destroyed all the stories which promised someone to love me, and I
threw away precious magazines, and books, because the time had come for me to
look after myself...
I
didn’t know then that it would be quite some time before I picked up a pen
again, and feel those long-lost stirrings of my own magic, but I did and I
never looked back. I realised even then, that writing, sharing, and caring was
an extraordinary way of connecting, communicating, planting seeds, to learn,
and show those that are interested it’s possible to connect on another level, a
deep level where a writer is able to express, or better still give a piece of
themselves. As you may imagine when I started
to write again, it was like I couldn’t stop, my heart, head and hand just
produced all these thoughts and words, my blog received some and the rest I filed
away.
During
my absence from writing I did not waste time, I had a career, married and I became
a mother. All those dark years of pretending... finally a mother and I
confidently say I’m the best mother I can be. During those wonderful years my yearning
to write did start to tap-tap me on the shoulder but I was fulfilled and happy
for the first time in my life. I had a family. Then a crisis, a heartbreaking tragedy
struck my heart. One afternoon for five hours I waited by the hospital bed of a
loved one, I went over my life; I made promises to god as I begged for help. I also
made a promise to myself that I would no longer put my writing on hold, and I
would write as often as I wanted. Within that writing I knew I would always
spend time to pass inspirational messages on to whoever was interested, because
as a reader I also knew that we often read things, they strike a chord and
again those random words touch a place that helps, and heals.
Of
course I have dreams... I happily work on projects with the vain hope that one
day when the time is right they will be released, but for now all I want, is to
see my words flow and know they mean something to someone. As a writer I also
understand words can be powerful, and I will always remain mindful to make
sure my words won’t hurt, wound or maim, aha, unless of course I’m writing a
story.
In
a flurry of writing I am clear that for me there are no expectations, in fact
it would be fair to say that despite no expectations, my beloved writing has
indeed healed me, and it’s in that gratitude I want to share my positive journey.
~Jane
Ewen~
