In my late twenties, I began writing.
It was a very sudden decision from working in high-end fashion retail in North America, to heading back East to my birth place Hong Kong and joining a publication, with no experience in journalism or writing, (that in itself is a miracle). I still marvel at this decision today.
Something prompted me in the innermost heart to choose, simply to express. And something kept me going, not because I am good with words or have great knowledge of words, there was just something inside of me that wants to be very simply and clearly expressed. In fact, I have never been drawn to hard and complex words or ways of expression, and therefore, my expression can only be in a way that I know how to, and that is, very simply.
In different parts of my life, I too have used writing as a form of addiction, medication, distraction as well as a channel for emotional outbursts. But that never fulfilled the simplicity of simply expressing. When I returned to Hong Kong, I had to write in Chinese, a language that seemed much more foreign to me than English in many ways, and to do my job, I had to get out-of-the-way, so to speak, for what wishes to be expressed to be written. Therefore, it was never just me writing and the “I” in any piece of writing was over-rated.
Expressing is simply my responsibility as a human being. Everything that wishes to be expressed, without the goal of self gain or recognition, is simply what we all know within, and now shared for more people to remember– though the choice to be inspired or not always lie within the one who receives. The freedom of speech, feels to me to be a responsibility, and this responsibility is to be love.
And every moment that we truly express, don’t we remember who we are a little more?