That seems to be the way of things for me right now: the middle, the liminal, the in between, the edges. I'm not quite anywhere, but I'm most definitely here. Smack-dab in middle age between maiden and crone. In the middle of perimenopause between menarche and menopause. As a mother of t(w)eens, coaching them from childhood to adulthood. In the middle of grief after losing my father. A writer who isn't quite sure what to write.
There's something about this in between place that feels comfortable, somehow. Or maybe just normal. I noticed that the last two newsletters I sent to my biz mailing list talked about me feeling in the middle in some way. I've always felt a little on the edges, not sure where I belong. I spent a lot of my life trying to contort myself to fit in. I'm trying to resist that now. Courting myself. Falling in love with this person I painted over for so long.
My relationship with words has been a journey. It started, in earnest, as opening my mouth to let the words spill out, when I had held back for so long. The good girl just agrees and goes along, after all. What I found, putting pen to paper, was that my words could express things that I struggled to voice out loud. Thinking back, I suppose this has always been the case. I grew up in a time that we passed letters in school. The sweetness of teen crushes captured in words we didn't dare to speak face to face. And from an early age, my diary contained the words I wouldn't dream of sharing. Then there was the occasional poetry and allegory to capture what bubbled inside me. I never thought my writing could be something or mean something to someone else until I thought maybe it could. And then decided it really could.
It feels bold to call oneself a writer. Bold to think that one's words could matter to the world. Then again, maybe that's from peeking behind this female lens. Do male writers think themselves bold? Did Socrates worry whether he was allowed to share his thoughts?
My daughter and I read The Outsiders this year for her curriculum. I read this in high school without knowing the author was a woman. Did you know they were a woman? She says in response to using initials instead of her full name, "My publisher was afraid that the reviewers would assume a girl couldn't write a book like The Outsiders." Hmph.
But I digress. This is how my brain works, following threads.
In my own writing, I adore symbols and the imagery they invite us in to. I write brief stories that invite us into our sub-conscious through these images and symbols. I have friends I've written these stories for that are moved by what these symbols evoke in them. Some are surprised by the symbols I include which they had never told me about. Some call it the muse. Some call it flow. That place where you feel like you are merely a vessel for the word coming through you. Call it magic, call it God, call it The Muse. Whatever you believe, it's humbling to feel.
Wherever I am, the words can find me. I hitch a ride on their magic, letting them burst me open. They show me a truth that I feel so deeply and a world I dream is possible. I don't know exactly what the world I dream looks like. If I did, I'd tell us how to get there. But I only see glimpses; hopeful dreams of what could be. Nothing changes without dreamers. Someone needs to imagine something different in order for anything to change.
So I'll keep dreaming. While I'm here in the middle.
More practically, I am a writer (still feels hard to claim). A writer writes. And I need a bit of motivation to keep up with it. I thought I'd try committing to this space to keep me honest. To keep me writing. And I hope to build a deeper connection with my readers. Care to follow along?
I don't claim to have a topic. Sometimes I write poetry. Sometimes I write little glimpses of story, as I mentioned. Sometimes I'm thinking out loud about a question. I'm so curious, you see. I wonder about everything. I'm like the two year old that constantly asks, "why?". The world fascinates me. Humans fascinate me.
If you want a taste of my writing, you can check out what I've published on Medium.
So here I am. In the middle. How about you?