The great creator lives within each of us. All of us contain a divine, expressive spark, a creative candle intended to light our path and that of our fellows. ~ Julia Cameron
We’re so much more than our taglines and Google stats, our comments numbers and subscriber lists. In our online lives, we can choose to name ourselves as elaborately or as simply as we like.
Are you a writer, a blogger, an entrepreneur? A technical expert, a website designer? An enabler, an inspirer, a motivator, a chronicler of lives and times? A teacher, a homemaker, a supporter of souls, a connector, a silent but loyal reader?
I don’t think of you as ‘traffic’ or a ‘lurker’ if you read my blog but haven’t subscribed or commented. You’re a person who, for reasons of your own, simply hasn’t commented or subscribed. My identity, happiness and personal definition of success aren’t inextricably linked to a new set of numbers in my life. I’m just glad you’re here. For this moment is all there is, and right now, we’re connected.
We can choose to feel as powerful or as powerless as we like.
We can choose to use our powers wisely for the good of others – whether it’s to serve, support, sell, entertain, teach, present facts or inspire.
If you, too, are a writer, you share in the god-like process of creativity. In some ways, all life is dead already – yesterday, a moment ago… gone. But if you’re rooted and fly in the present, you keep the whole world alive.
When we write, we use the same skills as CSI’s, crime scene investigators, sifting through the details, recreating moments, lives, motives. We may be presenting facts and evidence, but if we write non-fiction, they’re our versions of facts. If we write fiction, they’re not even versions, they’re entire worlds of our own creation.
So how can we have that greatness, that god-like creativity at our disposal and ever feel powerless?
Write a loved one back to life today. Let us smell the food they savoured, touch what they touched, see the worlds they watched, feel the breezes they walked in. Paint their passions, show us the part of them that shone. Be content to be the mirror, the crystal that reflects, the jug that fills to overflowing, and they – and you – will live forever.
(If you haven’t had the chance to read And the Angels Sang, please take a moment. )