A few years back someone asked me how I started writing. It seemed strange to me because I have never written much or thought of myself as a writer. Still, this answer came to me quite quickly and today while going through some things on my computer I stumbled across it. I thought it might be fitting for the start of a new year.
I remember sitting in a classroom when I was about fifteen years old and it was a test day. One of the questions required an essay answer. It was the first time in my short life that I could not seem to put words on paper fast enough. I felt as though I was in some kind of trance as the words poured out from some unknown place. My mind was racing and my hand could hardly keep up. It is amazing what thoughts are brought to mind when someone asks you why you love to write, or what made you think you could write about anything significant in the first place. But, it was that particular moment during that test that I think of, nothing noteworthy, except to me. By the way, I got an A on that test.
After that, I didn’t think much about developing the skill of writing. Except for the many depressing poems which many teens seem to write, I didn’t pick up my pen for years. It was at this time that I wrote a story and submitted it to many magazines, only to be turned down by all of them. This did not matter to me, for it was in the writing of this particular story that provided me with the catharsis needed for this situation in my life.
I started my career as a teacher, and then joyfully stayed home to raise two beautiful children. My husband of twenty eight years died when I was just fifty two, and now, realizing that I have endured and overcome so many life lessons, I am ready to fly again.
I feel the nudging from somewhere deep in my soul to express myself through my words. This time, though, it is with the clear intention of reaching out to others in a way that they may experience some comfort or familiarity with what I am writing. I am not here to teach or counsel. I do not consider myself qualified, but I am here to share myself with compassion, and without judgment. Perhaps through my words, someone will be inspired to reach out to others also in their own personal way.
©christine geery 2010


Salon.com
Comments
Then I wrote stories to the guys I stalked in High School.
I took a break for a few years and then started blogging five years ago on another site trashing my ex.
I got over it grew up and then got really sick. So I decided after I got better that it was time to write to tell my stories.
Then I met you and all the rest of OS and well you had me at hello.
rated with hugs
Love you much
♥
Writing has always been my therapy, long before I realised it. Sometimes I describe it as a need and a need I sometimes wish I didn't have.
But then...the reaching out to others, the shared compassion and support make writing a need others can never understand.
You write with insight and sincerity. I'm sure your words will comfort and inspire many readers.
rated
The results are lovely and captivating!
The puppies think they're keepin' it real on the street...well we invented real.
What you do is lift others up and that is a beautiful thing.