001 · The Fear That It's All Been Said
Google search results aren't the story...
What’s the point of writing anything? Hasn’t everything (and then some) already been said? Go ahead, think of something you want to write about and then search for it on Google. How many zeros are there in the number of results that came up? This could be depressing.
But it’s not.
Those zeroes aren’t the story. What’s something you read recently that you really liked? No matter what it was—fiction, a blog post, a letter from your mother, a song lyric, a few words that struck your heart—you liked it because you connected with it. The person you were at that moment found something you wanted.
We’re works in process, all of us. We reach and find and change, notice a new horizon, and reach again. We fall and find inspiration in the grains of sand before our face, or close our eyes and listen for questions. We evolve, seeking more as we go. We can’t help it.
Someone, somewhere who’s evolving needs what you have to share. They’re in a spot of bother or they’re reaching out or both. They’re searching for you. You are what they need in their current moment. If you don’t trust that, you can’t help them. Decide to trust. That person, those people waiting for what you have to say need you to begin and to finish so you can let your writing loose into the world for them to find.
All those zeroes Google brings up? That’s nothing compared to the number of people out there searching. Help them.
Even if all the words you use have been used before, even if you don’t come up with phrases that will, by themselves, knock the world for a loop, what you have to share (even if it’s all questions) has not been said before. It can’t have been, because you are in this place where you are now for the first time.
That’s enough. That’s more than enough for a connection.
Write what’s true for you. Send it. Somehow.
Encourage someone to evolve. Start with you.
Previously published on Grace Kerina website in 2022.
About the Photo | Imperia
Konstanz, Germany, at Lake Constance, 2012
In the background of this photo (taken during a mid-August day-trip to Konstanz, back when I lived in southwest Germany) is a rotating 30-foot tall (9-meter) sculpture called Imperia, created by Peter Lenk. In a bold move, the statue was put in place on private property “clandestinely”1 (though I’d like to see a video of that, since, hey, that’s a lot of concrete to stack in a stealth sneak). After weathering the town’s outrage, Imperia became an icon.
On my visit, I wandered the Konstanz shore, sat on a bench, enjoyed the day and views of Lake Constance, but my attention snagged on slowly rotating Imperia, amazed and delighted by her story, smiling at the idea that the town, faced one morning (in my imagination) with the sudden presence of a giant, confident statue in their harbor, simply had to come to grips with it.
That’s how I feel about personal growth and creating: When I surrender to whatever is truly true for me—the thing right there, rotating or spiraling through my life, demanding my attention—life gets easier and more fun.
Here’s a closer view2:
