The Ecstasy

Ah, the joy of writing. It's when I find my writing flowing on a day when words pour through me, creating a world that didn't exist before, and finding safe harbor in my creativity. What power!

But what I have recently found makes me the happiest in my writing endeavors is caring for the stories of others. My writing has become a vehicle that brings me to other writers, where new worlds have emerged for me.

I have lived through brutal immigration, western travels on a stagecoach, private detective adventures in France, time travels to warlords and witches, and those darker places, where I experienced the physical and mental suffering of others. As a result, I have deepened my compassion for those living in trying conditions.

What I have learned is that my world is not the most important one there is. I know now, that I am happiest when I not only listen- but when I open my heart and truly let myself feel the stories of others.

I realize what extraordinary riches writers bring to this world. Every story told is a new dimension, a new strand of gold woven through dreams, visions, hurts, and healings created by storytellers.

This to me, has become the ecstasy of writing, to cultivate relationships with other writers who were born to give form to the formless. To be a writer is to free the truth squeezed under a tight lid of status quo. And to be writers together is to be a powerhouse of joy in a tide of evolving humanity.