Living out our lifetimes, we never perceive ourselves to be more powerless than when we feel isolated. No one else believes what Ido, we may think. No one else feels the way I feel. But whenever we write, and read the writing of others, there comes a feeling that we are not alone—that despite the many differences in culture, beliefs and socioeconomic status among the peoples in this world, there is a oneness about us that transcends our differences, and reminds us that we are all in this together.
Let’s put ourselves for a moment on the “other end” of writing, to become the receiver (the reader) of what is written. When we see the writer dipping beneath the surface to expose her strongest emotions, we feel a connection…for while it is another’s story, the passions described are universal. “There are feelings and longings we understand and accept in ourselves only when we recognize them in someone else’s words,” Sheila Bender wrote, “words that never have been ours to speak until we saw them written out of someone else’s life.” We feel compassion for others that we are reluctant to extend to ourselves. But as we read, our feelings are validated.
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