What good amid these, O me, O life? Answer. That you are here—that life exists, and identity; That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.
~ Walt Whitman
Writing is a very personal endeavor. It is reflective, creative, and intensive. Though the product or writing may be selfless, the process of writing is self-absorbed.
Close the door. Leave me alone. Let me be. I’m writing.
Upon further examination though, I realize that I’m not truly alone. My thoughts are often continuations of ideas posited by friends. My ruminations are often ignited by queries asked by other thinkers. My written musings have their origins in speeches and sermons, discussions and deliberations, orations and observations.
I’m really more of a co-author, than an author.
My writings are often more a part of a greater dialogue, than they are a monologue, because the thoughts continue on, for comment, rebuttal, or further contemplation. If a dear friend sparks an idea, I carry it further in writing. If a family member comments on a heart issue, I dig through the matter to understand them better. If a colleague inspires a new direction, I delve into that, and put my thoughts into words and actions.
I write, often on the wings of others.
If no man is an island, then perhaps no piece of writing is a solo performance. I’m just grateful to contribute a verse.