Recently, a friend sent me a number of chapters of a book she's writing. I am humbled that she asks my opinion of this work that she holds so close to her heart. I chose a time when I might be able to sit uninterrupted with the pages and savor each word and paragraph, knowing that the manuscript would reveal seldom-shared secrets - pieces of herself.
I was engrossed as I sat cross-legged in my favorite reading spot drinking coffee. She explored her past from her current vantage point. The imagery was not always pretty, but the truth of it was beautiful. And the wisdom priceless.
What I know is that through the writing, she heals. Observing her past from outside looking in, she learns about herself. Through the disclosure, reality is affirmed. She says..."this is me - this is my voice - hear me, see me." I am awed by the bravery in that.
As much as writers all hope that one day their work will be noticed, sold, published, we write for ourselves. Because we must. We have something to say that must be said. The stories may have been told before, but it is our own experiences and our own voices that make it real, not only for us, but for those who choose to read our work.
The piece I take away from the time spent with the manuscript is this...write your truth, know you are worthy, know that healing is possible.
Dear Claire...I love your book and honor your bravery. Trust the voice, it is the divine in you speaking. Though I cry for the child, your smile reminds me that all is as it should be.