I write because I believe in words. I write because I do not believe in words. I write because it is a dance with paradox. I write because you can play on the page like a child left alone in sand. I write because it belongs to the force of the moon: high tide, low tide. I write because it is the way I take long walks. I write as a bow to wilderness. I write because I believe it can create a path in darkness….
In these times of guns, war, police violence, racism, misogyny and a country burning down from it’s ignorance and fear
I am writing.
I am writing for my life
I am writing to make sense of
I am writing for the lives of those who come after me.
I am writing because I want a more whole world.
I am writing because I struggle to believe that
working for the things I love…
bees, beauty, flowers, children, animals, nature, song, dance, color, words
are enough in a world
so wrecked right now.
I am writing because I want to hope again.
I am writing because, as Terry Tempest Williams wrote, “The Eyes of the Future are looking back at us and they are praying for us to see beyond our own time.”
I’ll let her finish…
“I write to make peace with the things I cannot control. I write to create red in a world that often appears black and white. I write to discover. I write to uncover. I write to meet my ghosts. I write to begin a dialogue. I write to imagine things differently and in imagining things differently perhaps the world will change. I write to honor beauty. I write to correspond with my friends. I write as a daily act of improvisation. I write because it creates my composure. I write against power and for democracy. I write myself out of my nightmares and into my dreams. I write in a solitude born out of community. I write to the questions that shatter my sleep. I write to the answers that keep me complacent. I write to remember. I write to forget….