Why Write?

Wow. This a-post-a-day thing is really keeping me on my toes; keeping me thinking. It's so very Anne Lamott. If only I could write like Anne! I find myself walking about, experiencing the day, noticing the light and the sound and the texture of it. Taking it in. Sifting it. Churning it. And turning it out again. Trying, in some way, in any way, to transfer it to the page. To make sense of it. To make it matter. Anne Lamott says it best:

"Why does writing matter again? ... Because of the spirit ... Because of the heart. Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. They deepen and widen and expand our sense of life: the feed the soul. When writers make us shake our heads with the exactness of their prose and their truths, and even make us laugh about ourselves or life, our buoyancy is restored. We are given a shot at dancing with, or at least clapping along with, the absurdity of life, instead of being squashed by it over and over again. It's like singing on a boat during a terrible storm at sea. You can't stop the raging storm, but singing can change the hearts and spirit of the people who are together on that ship." (Lamott, "Bird by Bird," p. 237).

The past two weeks I've longed for Mrs. Lake more so than I have since she set me free seven years ago. I'm constantly worrying Would Suzan approve of such posts? Oh, I DO hope I'm "showing" and not "telling" this story. WWSD? Not that that question (What Would Suzan Do) applies solely to writing. Nay. It applies to Life. I'd do well to ask myself that question honestly and often in regards to any sort of thing. What a True North that dear woman is. As I've written before, there are no words to adequately express how much I love the woman who taught me to love words (and Lamott) in the first place. I dedicate this month of November, this National Blog Posting Month to you, Suzan. Bless your face, my gadfrey!