I have always been afraid that my words would be used against me. That my words would help convict me. That my words would be misconstrued and abused. And suddenly, that doesn’t seem to matter anymore.And so what if they are? I will write more.
And so what if others do not like what I have to say? It is my time to speak up and share.
There are a million just like me, who talk like me and walk like me (thanks Eminem) - who can relate to what I have to say, who might find solace in my words, who might help release grief because of what I share.
And besides, my words are not my own. I am divinely inspired.
What gives me the right to cut off the source? What allows me to not trust my voice and share the gift of writing that I have been given? Is my ego so big that I cannot allow the divine flow to take over and just be an instrument without putting myself in the way?
I am the garden hose through which the Goddess nourishes her plants.
