Does A river doubt itself when cutting through rock? Does it ever question its ability? Does it have days where nothing in the world could convince it of the progress it would make in the future? When it looks back on what it has done this far is it amazed and encouraged, or overwhelmed and exhausted. Perhaps it wants to stop, maybe there’s a deep desire to stop fighting for each small slice of progress. So much power and time, two valuable commodities exhausted for what seems to be such little progress. Those closest to the river are bewildered by its progress and persistence. Have they considered how tired it is? Maybe the river doesn’t even want to cut the rock but just by existing, by taking each day at a time it accomplishes what seems impossible. Without any other direction to go it moves forward. Refusing to let doubts have any real power it collides with the stone with nowhere else to go.
I received my first real writing assignment when I was 12. Tasked with filling a page I was overwhelmed. I had never written more than a paragraph! Hearing my dismay the teacher suggested that I write about something I liked. “Something I like” I thought to myself. At the time camping was a common activity with my family, I thoroughly enjoyed camping, and I came to the conclusion that I had to write on that. What happened next I could have never prepared for, my pencil was moving of its own volition, Possessed it effortlessly filled my paper. The child holding that pencil was amazed with what was happening, never had I expressed myself quite like this. As my mind, heart, and hand worked together I developed a special place in my heart for words and writing. From then the daily writing assignment was something I looked forward to. Given ten Minutes (which was never enough) to take the suggested daily writing prompt I would weave obscure tales and narratives that reflected my interests and friends. When it came time to share I was usually the first to offer, I enjoyed enrapturing the class with my words. They were listening to what I had written, Laughing with me! The class, invested in my story would often moan in anguish when I ended my adventure with my common catchphrase “and then I woke up” their reaction would bring a smile to my face. Their audible indication that they had been listening was special to me. When the school year ended so did the prompts. Writing on my own? What would be the point in that? I failed to realize the outlet that writing had been. With no real direction I lost my passion to write and express myself. Sure the feeling came back from time to time in the occasional writing assignment but it never stuck. It may have taken a long time but I have picked it back up. Despite my lack of knowledge, I move forward doing what I enjoy. In time I hope to be a better writer but I will never achieve this goal by sitting Idly by.
Words alone cannot change the earth’s rotation. Words alone cannot stop a volcano’s eruption. Words alone cannot reach to the deepest parts of the ocean. Isn’t that what I try and do with them sometimes? Turn the earth the opposite direction? Halt one of the most powerful events of this world? Reach for something that cannot be touched?