With the fresh spring breeze sending chills throughout my body, making the hair on my arms stand up and the sounds of a family household in the background, I lay across my bedroom floor with notebooks surrounding me. Pencils, colours, books spread around, encompassing me with the inspiration to create and feel the sweet contentment in my heart and soul.
From a very young age I felt inspired to write and most times that I did, I felt most connected to myself. Most Saturday's after the morning cartoon line up I spent hours writing, doodling, creating, dreaming and listening to my inner thoughts as they guided me to tell stories on paper. This was a big part of my early childhood. While I can't entirely explain what happened to make me stop writing or pursuing writing any further back then, I can say that creating is a process and a journey to be honoured and respected by oneself. And I am working to bring back the confidence and clarity that my writing time used to give me.
Somewhere around the age of 16 I took those creative moments, stories and inspiration and I tucked them away in a box I'll call 'a box of dreams', unaware that I would so desperately want to connect with them 15 years later. I might add that I feel extremely weird about admitting that the age of 16 was a decade and a half ago for me...
Ironically I realize that it is trauma that seems to propel me to write and express and then to stop writing and stop expressing in the best and purest way I know. I have to admit that this kind of scares me. In a perfect world I'd like to connect to writing ALL the time...
About 6 years ago very traumatic event propelled me to share a beautiful story with the world. However there is a little piece of me that goes in waves of connecting with this story. I do know that if I don't share it and help others than someone else will. The only thing that I can say is that it has been a journey and I've needed to spend some time going inward addressing my emotional attachment to the story.
As much as I truly want to locate that 'box of dreams' as I think it holds a huge piece of the puzzle for me and it might help me to actually find the courage to share this story, there is something that I am still struggling with. I am struggling choosing the audience I want to write to. Is it children? Is it adults? Is it both? How do I differentiate my voice? Who do I start with?
I want to inspire children. I want to lovingly support those sweet little beings through challenging times in life but also to keep their light pure and precious. I want to inspire adults. I want to help empower them to find strength, love and beauty in all things. Pretty easy right? Err...I am still figuring that part out. As I learn to differentiate my audience, I am meeting powerful authors who have established their own audience and shared their journey I am learning SO much about myself and my own life purpose. I guess the teacher in me is keen on the lesson in each experience as I tend to gravitate toward it.
As for the 'box of dreams'...stay tuned I'm somewhere in my parents attic looking for it.