On Saturday I met a friend at a coffee shop. Our intention was to write. We mostly talked but we did eventually pull out the notebooks and start to write.
She suggested a simple prompt. Something like, "I am..." The immediately started writing about my own sense of isolation, a recognition that, "I am alone." The more I wrote about being alone, the more I came to accept it. It started to feel like a gift rather than a burden, something to embrace, rather than run from.
Isn't it what the existentialists were trying to teach us? For me, writing is a better teacher.
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