The Moment You Realize You Are A Writer

It starts with a trigger. You’ve seen something that intrigues you – a quote that spoke to you, a song lyric that cuts you deep, a thought you’ve come across that is unfamiliar and needs to be explored, analyzed, and de-layered. You find an open space on any kind of writing material and scribble it down before you forget your precious gift of thought that is entirely your own. A ripped off piece of napkin, a small open corner in your notebook from your college lectures, or notepad on your iPhone if it is not dead will all suffice as a safe haven for your thought to reside safely until you can return to it again when you have time to treat it with the attention it truly deserves. Then comes the waiting.

Of course, you have your daily routines to get out of the way first. The mundanity of living we all endure in order to survive. Rushing to class, getting to work, taking care of a family member. Making dinner, going for a run, doing a favor for someone who has asked something of you. Life tends to get in the way for a little while, but you feel secure because your thought is safe and stored away. Finally, a free moment comes, and when that moment presents itself – you pounce on it.

You press your pen to the paper or your finger to the keyboard and take off. You return to your inspiration and in a moment you find yourself in a movement, unable to stop. At this point in time, you might not even be aware of what you are saying. As the words flow out, you wonder where they are coming from. The only thing you are sure of is that you have no idea how this will turn out – but you are still unable to stop, and definitely don’t want to because you are losing yourself in your words and finding yourself in them simultaneously.

In some cases, the urge to elaborate is so strong that you can’t wait. The inspiration hits you so hard that if you cannot make time at that very second to explore this unique trigger, you will go insane. You won’t be able to stop thinking about it. It will consume the whole of your thoughts with all of the words you want to bleed out. You will feel the dire need to color this concept with the brush of your individual opinion.

It is a burning fire inside of your mind that needs to be fizzled to embers – never put out, just set free for a while only to be returned to its cage.

Today was the day I realized that not everyone feels this way about writing. Not everyone wrote stories on colored construction paper when they were little and stapled the sides to make their own “book’. Not everyone kept journals in high school only to fill them with teenage angst, heartbreak, growing pains, and pure disdain towards parents.

It wasn’t their release to write it all out, their down time to relax, or wrack their brain at midnight setting on a mental exploration. Some people don’t enjoy this at all – some, in fact, dread it. I realized I was a writer today because not only do I want to write – I need to write.  It keeps me sane, gives me voice, and helps set things straight in my life. It is something you must experience in order to understand fully, but for the rest of my life I will carry this beautiful disease around with a smile, and most definitely write about it.