There is no one on the planet with the same personality, passion, experience, intellect, ideas and perspective that you have. Your unique gifts were given to you for a reason, and I happen to believe—dare I say it?—on a spiritual level that we were given our gifts in order to share them with others.
We’re a social species, after all. We rely on each other for everything necessary for survival—our clothes, food, cars and housing, the clean water that comes from the faucet, the faucet itself. Even our favorite hiking trails were mapped our and created by other people.
As I write this, I’m sitting inside the coffee shop at a Whole Foods Market in Boulder, Colorado. Here, I’m surrounded by gifts supplied by other people—the music on the speakers overhead, the welcome air conditioning, the bottle of cool unfiltered coconut water, the table I’m writing on, the pen I’m writing with—all of these things have been created by people who possess skills and abilities I do not. Skills involving music, electronics, farming, business, carpentry, engineering and so on.
Your gifts, as a writer, are the experiences you’ve had, the wisdom you’ve acquired, and your unique way of looking the world. If you don’t honor these gifts by writing and sharing them with others, you risk the anguish that comes from silencing yourself. But the rest of us suffer the loss as well.
If you define the word “sacred” as that which is worthy of reverence, awe or respect, then writing truly is a sacred act. It is a way of honoring and respecting the wisdom we’ve gained and sharing that wisdom with others who can benefit from it.
Take a moment to ponder the idea of writing as a sacred act. How long has the desire to write been with you? How have you honored this desire in the past? How would you describe where impulse or calling to write comes from? (Freewrite some answers to these questions.)