Write What You Live

At least a year ago, I felt like God told me “you’re living what you’ll write.” Or maybe it was a voice in my head or perhaps a fleeting thought. But it was something to hold on to. Something to hold on to in a season where I was, and still am, living in and out of suitcases while my former life resides stacked neatly in my sister’s garage. It was comforting to feel like the chaos I brought on myself would one day be worth something. As an aspiring writer, I see words in everything, yet they, somehow, don’t often meet the page.  

Then, just when I thought that voice—you’re living what you’ll write—was starting to become a crutch to rest my woes, I began to wonder, “what’s the opposite of that phrase?” It was in the middle a drive I’ve done a thousand-million times. A drive, perhaps, in the opposite direction I should have been going. But then, as the words rearranged themselves in my head like they often do, I realized the phrase that was tiding me over had become my call to action: write what you live. 

A writer-friend of mine recently submitted a proposal to give a TED Talk. We had a conversation about it a few weeks ago and then before we even had the chance to have a second conversation, she submitted the proposal and got a response back. Just. Like. That. I, on the other hand, struggle from decision-paralysis and like to sit on things until my anxiety forces me to do something about it. Her advice? “Pull the trigger. Cross your fingers.”  

So, this is where I pull the trigger. Fingers crossed.