Passions of the Soul

I’m so glad that I have always had this passion for writing. Since I was four years old. Literally.

Sometimes I try to imagine my life if I were not so bound to writing… and I can’t. Imagine it, that is. What would I even DO?! I’m glad I’m not someone without a passion in life. I don’t mean something you just enjoy–I mean a PASSION. Something you just cannot NOT do. Something that breathes life into you.

My boyfriend and I got into a philosophical discussion the other night about what a soul really is. What is it about me that makes me just know, deep down, that I must write? Why do other people not feel that way?

I said, “Because it’s just who I am. It’s in my personality.”

He asked, “What IS your personality?! What is it?!”

He needs answers. 🙂 And I adore him for it–for his curious mind, always trying to learn and figure out the great mysteries of Life.

I choose to just accept it as a mystery. I can’t see a soul. I can’t truly define it. I would say that it is my inner being. That thing I feel when I see a random act of kindness, and it moves me. What I feel when said boyfriend kisses me, or holds me. What I feel when I am putting words to a page.

I was born with this need–to write. To tell stories. To use words to the best of my ability in an effort to move people, and to give them new perspectives on life if I can. Not writing has never even been an option in my life. What would I be without it? Who would I be?

I suppose if I wasn’t a writer my passion would be elsewhere. Maybe I’d be a champion ice skater. That would be fun. And therein lies the fun in writing… I can be a champion ice skater if I so choose. Even if only in my imagination, put down onto a page. 🙂

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