When I write, I like to give my heart. My heart which most of the time struggles to find the write words. My heart which beats every time there is something new to share. My heart that feels, that captures all the emotions and turn it into a memory of life, a memory of love. It is when I write that I get to show a part of my heart, a part of what I am feeling, a part of what I wanted to give. When there is passion, my heart knows. When there is love, my heart knows. When there is desire, my heart knows.
When I write, I like to give my mind. My mind which learns. My mind which captures every detail and then forms them into words. My mind which analyzes every feeling, every emotion, puts them into its own thoughts and brings out the solution or the realization of the-so-called life. It is when I write that I get to know the real meaning of what My heart felt. My mind captures it. My mind solves it. My mind knows.
When I write, I like to give my soul. My soul which summarizes all my feelings and all my thoughts. My soul that gives meaning to the beauty of words, to the beauty of life. My soul that longs for the passion, the desire, the love. My soul that longs for that knowledge. That knowledge that when I want to experience life, I move to find it. And once I found the one I am looking for, my heart desires, my mind captures, but my soul delights. Then once every feeling, every thought is fulfilled, my soul knows. My soul awakens.
When I write, I like to give my all. My every thing. For I know it is not mine. For I know that what I have now does not belong to me but belongs to the One Eternal. If I am the author of this thought, He is the author of my life. So when I write, I write for Him. So when I write, I give for Him.. So when I write, it will always be for Him. For my heart, mind and soul belongs to Him. Only Him.
When I write…
I learned never to empty the well of my writing, but always to stop when there was still something there in the deep part of the well, and let it refill at night from the springs that fed it. - Ernest Hemingway