It’s easy to marginalize our lives.
Before writing anything, I typically convince myself that my writing, in a sea of other amazing writers and creators, is, ultimately meaningless. And while I’m still on the fence regarding whether or not my writing and opinions and feelings are meaningless in the vast ocean of creativity, I personally have to draw a line and say, “this,” “this right here is where I stand and where I am and where I exist.”
For my own sanity.
For my own individual heart and soul’s journey.
For that voice inside me that says over and over “your experience is unique and it matters.”
Collective energy counts.
My voice might be distant and isolated where it projects. But that breath of thought and creation still leaves my body. I’m projecting it away and around me.
Be it in a journal, on the internet, in a published book, or a scrap of paper you leave in a rubbish bin, your words matter. And if I believe your words matter, I should believe mine do, too.