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If I Were To Pick Something ‘Sacred’ To Me…
‘Sacred’ is a weird word.
…we tend to use it either too flippantly, or over-earnestly.
I’m not sure any of us actually know what it means.
But if I were to pick something that is, somehow, sacred to me…
…It’s writing.
It’s always been writing.
Writing feels like… something bigger.
Like breathing: vital, necessary, unavoidable.
Like something I was put on this earth to do — like the Awen had first dibs on me, all along.
OK, so I’m romanticising writing…
But I figure that if there’s one thing in this life that we can romanticise, guilt-free, it’s Art. It’s creativity. It’s writing.
It’s that spark of life that we pass from one person to the next, that we weave into works that people pick up, mold, change, add to: that breathe in ways that we never intended…
…and if that’s not sacred, I don’t know what is.
Writing Prompt from the reliable Ravyne Hawke: