I don't know.

Today I want to write about what happens when we don't know what to say or what to write, but we just write anyway and be a channel for what wants to come.  I think so much of our resistance to bringing our wisdom or our creativity to the world starts with all the ways we convince ourselves of not being good enough, not being clever enough, not having anything to add or to contribute.  

And what if the path to bringing ourselves is simply to start, to put one foot in front of the other, without thinking big picture, without considering the destination even, but just letting our hearts onto paper, showing something of ourselves in this very moment ?  In this moment I am sitting on the stairs writing on my iPad with no agenda of what to write, no topic, nothing really that qualifies in my personality's mind as me 'having something to say'.  But I have started, and I am writing, and I am sharing myself.  And of course my blog is as much for me as anything else, so I am grateful for this newly discovered part of me that's willing to step forward, start typing, start saying something, even when I don't know what it's going to be.  

And then I see where it goes, where it gets to when I become a stream or a vehicle for the imagination that lives through this human body each day.  To be honest it's a relief that my relentless thinking has a place to go, a place to land.  And that's what I think journalling is really about - one way we can process our lives, integrate all that happens to us in our inner and outer worlds is to write down our lives, pour them onto the page so we can see what kind of picture this life creates in the world through our precious use of language. 

The quality that writing holds for me is that it shows up on the page as something slightly different to how I experience myself - I often write and then re-read what I have typed and and it doesn't feel like me - but cognitively I know I have done it.  And then the mystery starts about who is writing, who is here - because writing shows me that there's something else here than my personality, something else gets to shine it's way through to this little stairway in my cottage where I live.  

I really get the phrase 'writing for our lives' all of a sudden.  

Night night lovely ones.