The Exorcism of Writing
June 17, 2014 § Leave a comment
“Any writer worth his salt writes to please himself… It’s a self-exploratory operation that is endless. An exorcism of not necessarily his demon, but of his divine discontent.”
– Harper Lee
I wonder if that is what it is, this need to write about things that terrify me.
An exorcism of discontentment. An escape from the improbability of change. A fight for the faith that strength will win.
The darknesses of the world that I cannot find any peace with – it is these that occupy my mind and my pen.
Millions of slaves
Children raised to kill
The hatred of racism
The wanton acts of war
The complicated mess of mental illness.
I have to write about them in order to make sense of them, and yet, in the forming of words I am struggling to understand… And I guess that is the endlessness of it all. Searching, searching, trying to find the answers that only lie in eternal knowledge and truth, far beyond my small mind, far beyond my thin fingers. Try as I might, I cannot write until the crying seizes. I do not have enough words. I cannot understand why a person’s brain turns against itself, why people seek to harm instead of being kind, why hatred is chosen over joy, why healing is not complete.
It is all beyond me.
It is only in Him.