Passion.

What brings inner peace?

For each person I find that you get a different answer. For some, it’s just sitting and watching TV. For others, it’s more complex and deeply personal. I’ve found in my life that there’s a lot of things that can bring my joy and some peace for a short while. However, with how chaotic and busy I’ve been the last year and a half, it’s left little room for those types of things.

I paint, make things with resin, play video games, and read when I gather an hour or so of free time.

And these things do make me happy and bring me joy. I’m not trying to underplay that. I love everything I’ve made, and poured my heart and soul into it.

Yet, I’ve found what really makes me stress free — what really brings me joy and inner peace — has been writing. There’s something about being able to pull my phone out and open a word doc and just let go. It makes me smile and relax and take a breath. For just a few moments. I don’t have to be stuck in my head, or stuck in a long car ride.

It’s become so easy to find those small breaks between insanity where you can just sit and type out something. Forget for short intervals what’s happening around me.

And then, I’m no longer myself, stressing about work and money. I’m someone else. Someone new. Someone exciting, dealing with much stranger and less mundance issues. I’m a witch from the 1700s, pirating and fighting corruption. I’m a girl stuck in Gotham City, dealing with the insanity of a comic book world. In just a few clicks of a keyboard, I go from little old me to a goddess from old myths, or a mythical creature telling their story.

Due to modern technology, I never have to really sit and stress about making time for it. It’s not time sensitive. Even when I’m super busy, I can just add little bits here and there. Then, after a while, I can look back and see how far along the story I’ve mad has come.

It’s painting with words. Creating worlds with imagination. It’s freeing in every sense of the word.

However, it wasn’t always this way. I used to hate reading and writing when I was a child. I’d get angry at book reports and petty about having to read books in class. I know it sounds silly, but it’s true. I hated books and writing. Then I found the book, City of Bones, by Cassandra Clare.She inspired me then and now. Her writing was descriptive and passionate. She loved her characters like they were real people. That type of passion was something I found I wanted in my life. So I tried it and have since written on countless websites with hundreds of people. It’s how I found my partner and how I’ve managed to make new friends. It’s also how I’ve managed to keep and hold relationships with friends from school, who I couldn’t imagine my life without.

We’ve sat in cars, laughing and talking about story ideas, new plots, and new characters. We bounced ideas off each other and helped edit each other’s stories, growing together. Writing gives me a community of people to lean on and talk to during the hard times. It gives me a hobby and passion all in one. And most of all, it’s given me the freedom to be someone else when the world feels too dark and cold. It’s an escape from reality, and an invitation to be something else entirely.

Writing brings a sense of adventure to my soul, letting my soul stretch and grow. It provides my brain with something to think about during the busy hours at work. It’s been all I’ve had and been there for me when I really didn’t have people to lean on. I can honestly say it’s kept me going even when I didn't think I wanted to. So while it’s not everyone’s idea of peaceful, I’m glad it’s mine. I’m also glad I’ve found another platform to share my ideas with people and to grow as a writer.