Just Be Real. Let Profound Sort Itself Out.

I wrote recently how my blog posts are often inspired by conversations. The inspiration for this one was a recent online chat with a friend. We were discussing an article she was writing for Mental Health Awareness Week on the topic of body image.

“I’m interested to read your piece when it is ready.”

“I’ve only just started. I’m not sure I have anything profound to say.”

“Just be real. Let profound sort itself out.”

If you follow our blog you’ll know I’m a great believer in real, which I might also describe as genuine or honest. In life generally, but especially when it comes to writing. I would much sooner read a possibly-less-than-polished piece from the heart and guts of its writer than something which has been finessed but lacks integrity.

You can read more of what REAL means to me in this article hosted by HastyWords.

On one level, of course, an article, essay, poem, or any other piece of writing is REAL from the moment it’s written down. It exists in physical form, perhaps as words scribbled out on a page (as this one is materialising, word by word, in my Midori Traveler’s Notebook at a table in the lovely Church Gallery coffee shop in Kirkby Stephen) or on a screen.

And that alone can be enough. Bringing something into being is a profound act. It is art, and needs no further validation or justification. To create is to partake in and contribute to something greater than yourself. And if your words are written with integrity, if they are kind in mind and heart, then — oh! — they have the potential to move mountains. To move other hearts than your own. To change lives. Maybe even save a life.

And that’s about as profound as it gets.