The Politics of Writing: Come Dance with Me

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A Disclaimer: I will always think of politics as power that is usually used for good or evil, but rarely used for truth. Writing is power. A tool some believe can transcend good and evil and land squarely on truth. But truth, like a moment, is always a fleeting memory or an anticipation. So as I wield my weapon across the page, the always unattainable goal is truth. The reality is among my readers there will be casualties and baskers, most unintended. Just remember the writing isn’t about you.

My oldest friend believes she has the power to kill and maim with her prayers. She can cite several examples that can be very convincing even if you only believe in positive and negative energy in the universe. I have now convinced myself in my ability to derail a USA Presidential candidate’s political career by the mere whisper of my personal endorsement. This may carry over into major league sports teams and play-off games, as well. I will admit it is just a theory, but it feels so true. It seems this is the butterfly wing-beat that collapses civilizations. Because I believe in my power, I find myself through this life hesitating to explore it. I am unsure about my potential role as a conqueror even on the most personal level. Who am I not to let this under-achieving observer be? Therefore, I do not write. I do not meditate. I do not let go of other’s expectations. I do not allow myself to be.

So now, as I wield my weapon across the page, I know there will be casualties and baskers, but there is one intended victim – the fear – of power, potential, and letting go. And I will bask in the glory of being me.

Write on, sister. Write on.

* In 2008, I offer my sincerest and deepest apologies to Bill Richardson and Hillary Clinton.

Please be sure to see the companion piece over at Shmonkey.

Next week's prompt: Bliss