Occasionally, words come easily; flowing through me and onto the page effortlessly. But more often, writing feels like wrestling. I’m not a wrestler, so one might argue that I have no business in a wrestling match. I don’t know the rules. I don’t know the strategy. Despite that, I feel a consistent, gentle nudge to show up anyway. A quiet invitation to dig in to the turmoil of life to try to find hope and meaning.

Sometimes, the struggle produces something I am proud of. But often, it simply serves as practice, building my strength and stamina, conditioning me to be a strong and competent steward of words, and preparing me for the rare moments where the words seem to write themselves.

I had that experience recently. I, an inexperienced and untrained ‘writer,’ sat down and wrote 1631 beautiful, difficult words, that filled me with a deep sense of clarity, peace, pride, and accomplishment. It’s the peace and clarity that keep me coming back for more, compelling me to keep fighting for words even when I lose more than I win. But the accomplishment component appeals to the achiever in me, and I walk a thin line between writing for the right reasons and writing for the wrong reasons.

For me, writing is both deeply personal and connective. I feel called to use my words to help others feel seen, heard, and understood. But I struggle with the difference between ‘sharing’ and ‘connecting.’ When I shared my essay, it fell flat. And I am ashamed to admit that a lack of ‘likes’ affected how I felt about words that I was previously so proud of. Words that provided me with a deeper understanding of myself suddenly seemed unimportant. But this is because sharing appeals to my ego, while connecting nourishes my soul.

Maybe, with dedication and practice, this line will become clearer and better defined. Or maybe it won’t. Only time, and many, many more words will tell. My hope is that taking this hard, honest look into the face of my ego helps me to always remember the desire for peace and clarity that kept calling me back to my desk. Mostly, I hope that it helps me to become a better steward of words. Both the hard fought and the given.