History shows us again and again words are powerful. Words can inspire good. Words can inspire evil. Words can heal. Words can encourage. Words can edify. Words can tear down. Words can build up.
Words have spawned revolutions. Words have birthed, movements, nations, religions-and when put to music- formed the collective soundtrack of our human existence.
Learning to wield words succinctly is a skill with broad applications. A skilled wordsmith may be afforded employment opportunities across many diverse disciplines-just as varied-the salaries.
Of course, employment and a living wage is important. As I write this, I am currently unemployed thanks to the pandemic that still seems to have overarching affects and effects on my life.
But if I am to be honest, employment and finances are not what drives me. Hard to believe? It is true. What drives me is a genuine love for the written word and the art of communicating effectively and affectively with another human being.
This is what motivates me. Good writing moves people emotionally and physically. There is nothing more satisfying than watching someone be moved by your prose. There is no more powerful connection.
I feel most alive when I write. To truly know me, read what I write. I am most authentically me when I write. I do not write because I want to-I have to. Writing is breathing to me. The moment I stop, I die.
I love the entire writing process. Words are this writer's muse. A blank page in my journal teems with possibility. Excitement brews as I write the first words.
Feverishly now more words come. They fill up another blank page. They are soon scrapped and crossed out by my red pen.
I cannot help but smile as I edit. I mold and shape words like a sculptor molds clay or like a painter transforms a canvas. Then, I sigh and mumble to myself, "This is the life."
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