Unsilencing the writer: a confession, a return

writing

“Planning to write is not writing. Outlining – researching – talking to people about what you’re doing, none of that is writing. Writing is writing.” ~ E. L. Doctorow

The music found me. I blame my twin, Maria, a beautiful woman and artist. I blame the Italians. Ludovico Einaudi in particular. And the universe of course. Playfully, knowingly, nudging me to open the heart even more.

Because to be honest, as you might have noticed, lately I’ve been slowly getting evicted from my own blog. By this thing…this ugly thing that’s been trying to convince me I am bound to rules and to an image.

“Can’t get too personal, you’ve already revealed too much” she’s been saying. 

“Be consistent with your choice of topics, stick to psychology”…

“You can’t just write…instead, check the stats, do research, find relevant teachings to teach, and remember your professional public profile needs to look good!” 

Consequently (what a great word)…I lost my voice.

Well, not completely, but it’s mostly silent these days.

Well, not exactly silent, it just doesn’t dare write anything.

It wants to. But what will they say if they find out I spend too much money on coffee and I still believe in Santa? What will they think of me if I share my views on politics and animal rights, or tell them about what shamans do?

And how about if they find out I miss the beach to the point that it physically hurts, or why I believe it’s important to wear pretty shoes, and how much I like Korra…how I cry at a cartoon for God‘s sakes…because I too believe we all have inside us an unbreakable light, a song that heals all wounds, an inexhaustible capacity to recover from any injury and error and then sing more beautifully than ever before?

What will they think if they see I am so vulnerable and human, that I too want things and have dreams, that I believe in love and magic more than in psychology manuals or judgments…

…that I feel…that I feel…

…that I am silly and unwise, and proud and selfish…

…that I too want a beautiful, beautiful happiness, and I once wrote the most beautiful love poem which I don’t dare show in public, for fear they will all know I love and trust that boy with blue eyes like the sea…

Dear gods, old and new, I have created so much silence because of doubt. And pride. Because of trying so hard to fit into that professional profile that tells the world I am all-knowing and invulnerable.

Oh I am so glad the music found me. It forced this confession. It reminded me about that common place of infinite tenderness I promised myself and all those who read this blog. It reminded me I can only be the girl who writes about this thing called love as if it were the most important thing in the world…

…and that she writes…she writes because she knows no other way.

Forgive me for hiding. Thank you for coming here to visit with my soul. I am back and I promise you…I promise…to write.

(Here is my song…Ludovico Einaudi: Divenire – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8SkX9CSJQo)

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