Most of my posts have been about rowing. But that’s not what this blog is about.
When someone can get lost in your writings, spend an hour reading the things you have taken the time to craft and sent out into the world and come back to you with any kind of meaningful feedback, it is a humbling and precious thing to experience. That is the power of writing. To sift through what it seems to be on the surface and find something that resonates. Appreciate the pieces of you that come through and resound in someone else’s heart and soul. That is a fucking miracle my friends.
I think this is part of why I hung on my moms every word spoken or written. I could get lost amidst her soft spoken insights or creative and funny snippets in emails, the unique vocabulary of words she would use which no doubt came from reading nonstop as a kid and living in part in a world of fantasy. Her texts were hilarious. Or beautiful. Small hugs sent to me through the ether that is the reality that encompasses our every second now. A way to stay in touch. A way to say I love you. A way to be an example of what a tremendous human being is and was.
Words, writing can alter and awaken us to who we are and what we love and clarify our vision of the world, help us construct the world of our dreams, be the people we want to be, live up to what we are capable of, express what we can’t express any other way.
If one person can find that solace, comfort, joy, consumption in the things I endeavor to express, what more could I ever ask for from this blog?
This ones inspired by you Ry. Thanks for getting found in the words with me.
