The best writing happens when we’re alone. We need solitude to write because it tunes out the noise and allows us to put words to our deepest insecurities and fears. We want to talk about things that matter, so we write the things we’re afraid to say out loud. Writing is a desperate grasp at understanding.
It’s ironic, perhaps, that writers spend our writing lives in solitude, hoping that in the act of writing, we’ll create something that forges community between people. We live in an age when many of us suffer from social anxiety and lack of intimate human connection. Although smartphones and laptops are useful and efficient in many respects, the presence of social media tends to present us with false narratives of happiness—“highlight reels” of other people’s lives. It’s easy to get lost without a sense of real, authentic community to ground us.
In class this week, we were asked to share our writing with another student. As I discussed my essay with another student, it struck me how powerful and necessary it is that writers come together to share their work. How transformative it is to look into someone’s eyes and hear them say, I was right there with you. How important that we affirm each other. How quickly we flourish to life when we hear someone say this story resonated with me, your writing matters, I understand.
Before we can reach the point of connection, we have to be willing to be honest. We have to get the words on paper. That moment of creation is a beautiful thing, because you, the writer have transcended reality to the realms of imagination; you are lost to the world, for a little while. You’re immersed in the divine act of creating.
But when the time comes to share your writing with the world, share your writing. Even if you’re nervous, even if you’re vulnerable and anxious and afraid you didn’t do the idea justice. Please share. Because there are people out there who are looking for someone to be honest. When you tell something true, there will always be people out there who resonate with your writing.
