Writing Means…


Writing Means

Writing truly means different things to different people. As I approach my 28th year as a writer, which feels like “just yesterday”, I find myself very introspective about the beginning, middle, and present day.

It’s hard to believe I was ever this quiet, small, shy, introverted child that wasn’t highly talkative. I only spoke about things I understood to the fullest capacity, and in my ways, I’m still like that. I won’t talk about something unless I’m highly knowledgeable about it. However, I think shy is probably the last word anyone would attach to my name now.

Writing is not just a comfortable form of communication for me; it’s my voice.

Over the years, people have asked me not to be myself, not to utilize my gifts, and to suppress who I am. They would tell me how much they loved me, but their love came with all sorts of chains. No one that truly loves you tells you not to be who you are. No one that truly cares about you will walk away from you simply because you’re honest.

Honesty and realness do tend to make some people uncomfortable. It took me a long time to realize that those aren’t my issues, and I don’t have to carry them with me. I accept everyone on a case-by-case basis. If you’re good to me, I am going to be good in kind. If you lie to me, stab me in the back, or harm me or anyone I value, you might as well just call the morgue in advance because eventually, I will react.

I’ve learned over the years to walk away from people who do not help me grow. I do not mean that in a “I use people” capacity, quite the opposite. I believe in growth and I believe that we can empower each other in our individual life journeys. I believe that if you help people, you will be helped in your own times of crisis.

Sometimes a person is pure poison to you. Everything about them is cruel, vindictive, malicious. Their intentions are cast in something that can physically make you ill.

An old friend once said “My step-father’s aura is black, an evil shade of black.” As a person who has been able to see auras on and off her entire life, I totally understood what she meant by that. It was all of his anger, hatred, self-loathing, bitterness, etc., and she could physically see it coming off of him. Auras are often about perception. For instance, the purest auras I see are from children and animals. They are always a silvery shade to me, or a platinum radiance. To me, that always represents innocence. I don’t see it with every child or animal, but I do see it often enough that it rarely comes as a shock. Moreover, these are the same children that notice me and my aura. It makes them smile and point at me, giggling happily. I have no idea what it looks like to them, but whatever it is, it has always been very positive. Some animals very clearly see it too, because they look at me differently and treat me differently than their brethren.

In life, we all have specific affinities for very specific things. I was born with a lot of my gifts, things I’ve never discussed beyond like-minded individuals, and other gifts surfaced with age. Some people are “late bloomers”, but eventually almost all of us find something we excel at in ways others do not.

I work in a position where I have the power to tell people “This is not your forte.”, but in 20 years, I’ve never said it to someone. I’ve never felt it was my job to tell a person what they can and cannot accomplish. No matter how much professional power you may possess, I don’t think it gives you the right to shatter someone’s dreams. I’m direct, I am honest, but I am fair. I’d rather tell someone to go back to the drawing board than crush them altogether.

Not everyone has natural ability, but that can often be made up for with sheer determination and hard work. Rome was not built in a day and not everyone is born with supreme talent in any specific field. Much like our looks, it’s all a quirk of nature. Other things I have to perceive as blessings. Sometimes our gifts help us emerge from troubled situations, horrible upbringings, pain we never think we’ll be able to cope with.

No one’s life is perfect. It doesn’t matter how it is drawn for you to see, the grass is not always greener. I usually say “The picture in the window is not the truth.”, and I believe that. I know far too many people who came from picture perfect families to the outside world, but behind closed doors, were living in a realm of hell that is incomprehensible.

Many people come to me and say “Oh, I love to write.” or “I’m a writer too.” While I won’t denounce their claims, I can only speak for myself. I write because it’s my place in this world to do so. I write because it’s more to me than a source of income. I write because my ability with the written and spoken word is one of the greatest gifts I’ve been given, and to ignore those gifts would be a travesty.

There were many years where I only wrote when I had to. I didn’t want to “just be a writer”. I still don’t. I want to be the creative being I am supposed to be, always expanding my horizons. Never settling for opinions based on hot air.

The reason this is a writer’s platform and not a “blog” is based solely on the fact that I am a writer. A person can call it whatever they like, but I will never refer to it as “my blog”, because that’s not what it is. I have a blog and I am unhappy there, which is why this platform is so important to me and why I devote more time to it. It’s not just about building an audience for something new, it’s about attracting the right kinds of people to my work, people who will remain interested in the things I write, my published work, and the things I have to say. Call it a base-line, if you will, but for me, it’s a platform of reality.

Writing means I get to do that, I get to be myself here, without judgment. I get to speak my mind and if someone doesn’t like that, there is always an UN-FOLLOW button available to them.

In life, many things come and go, but talent? Talent stays with you, forevermore.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.