How to write to have an impact

A conversation, a divinely worded paragraph in a book you are reading or perhaps a random act of kindness you were fortunate to witness has you excited. The sparks are flying, ideas are flowing and you’re feeling inspired to write a blog post, an article or a story to share with your readers; something that they will find value in.

You start typing, a little manically at first, afraid that you might lose your train of thought. Words, intrigue and thought bubbles spill onto the page.

Ok, it’s a tad scattered but you’re getting it down, translating for the muse so to speak.

The words aren’t exactly the words you want to be using to describe this message, but hey, you can always go back and make those edits.

On the tip of your tongue is the expression you are after, but you can’t seem to find it. The line which would capture the essence with such poetic grace, your readers would be nodding in uniform agreement.

Vague descriptions sit in place of fine-tuned statements. It feels… hollow. Something is missing. It’s lacking power; the juice that gets people’s heads turning.

Then you pause.

You ask yourself: Does this even make sense to anyone else who is not in my head?

Then that imposter strides on in.

Who wants to read about this anyway? Is it even any good?

The momentum is lost. That initial high of inspiration has fizzled along with your idea. The copy joins the folder of countless unfinished drafts and random musings that sits on your laptop, and you’re left feeling frustrated and unsatisfied.

Can you relate? Sounding a little too familiar? If you are a writer (or have dabbled with the world of words), I’m sure you have ridden this creative curve more than a few times. I certainly have.

Why I Write

This big question has been at the forefront of my brain the past week, bouncing around, finding its footing. Finding its grip.

I was nestled in the back corner of one of my many favourite cafes, head phones in and encircled by post-it notes with words and messages when, while tapping away at my laptop I was stopped mid-sentence. I thought: Why do I do this? Why do I write?

The big why.

And you would think the answer would be quite obvious. That it would roll off the tongue without a moment’s hesitation. With full clarity and certainty.

But this wasn’t the case.

I was stumped. Silenced even.

I left the question unanswered. I let it linger, and this is what evolved.

I write because…

* It is integral to my personal happiness and wellbeing

If I don’t write, I don’t feel whole. I feel off-centre and a little wobbly to tell you the truth. When life has gotten too busy, and finding time to write has been a stretch so I’ve ignored the pull, it hasn’t worked in my favour. Lesson here: There is always time to write.

Something sensational happens when ideas and thoughts move from my head and through my body to my fingers, and make their way to the blank canvas before me in the way of words.

Spaciousness is created. Queries and ambiguities become clear(er) when articulated into verses, and everything just makes a little more sense. Who I am, and my place in the world is more evident.

Why do we do many of the things we love? Because frankly, it feels good.

* Creativity is sacred

When I find my groove, each word flows and graciously supports the next word - effortlessly. There is no push. No pressure. Each word has a unique home on the page, and has been chosen because of its exclusive relevance to the message and the quality it expels. The sentences begin to sing. The punctuation emphasizes each. and. every. word.

It is my doorway to the creative realm. Where colours morph and shapes transform. Where smells are portrayed and places are reinvented. Where life is full of possibility.

When this happens, I feel a beat to my walk, and a hop to my skip. This kind of self-expression brings me happiness and reminds me to keep doing what lights me up from the inside out.

There is a yearning; a fire in my belly, and experience has taught me that those feelings cannot be ignored.

Dear Glastonbury

You are a curation king.

A place for togetherness and conversation; a place for friendship and celebration.

You are a inventive maverick.

Opening up space for 200,000 people from afar to enjoy your 364 hectare farm and experience what it means to have elated fun.

All photos by Jason Di-Candilo @billthebadger

You are a purpose-driven, belief affirming, passion jousting machine.

Raising the social consciousness of the world’s ills and troubles, attesting that another way is possible.

You are a diva; a devilish rock star.

Unleashing new, classic, mellow and alternative tunes from your stages and venues, entrancing people to dance like wildfire and to sing like no one is watching.

A gift for you

Heba. This is an Arabic name derived for the Quran, which means gift or blessing.

Nestled on Brick Lane in London’s East you will find women from South Asia, Africa and the Middle East who embody the meaning of this word. They have arrived in London from vast and varied circumstances and their new life in the UK is just that - a gift and a blessing.

In search of direction, community and a sense of home, more than 300 migrant women a year come to the organisation rightly named the Heba Women’s Project. Some stay just a few months; for others, it’s a lifetime affair, returning time and time again for the friendship and the support. Regardless – each woman leaves Heba feeling different. Changed even. Empowered.

And the key to this empowerment? The safe space, the people and the learning opportunities most certainly help but the real elevator – the ultimate personal endorsement - is commitment. Commitment on behalf of each woman to be open, listen and try.

The project was started 24 years ago by eight Bangladeshi women, wives of leather workers,  who needed a space of their own for informal study and problem sharing. New to London – and its people, cultural norms, working environment and family demands - the women realised that there were many other new women to London who felt just as lost. These founding members were provided a room among the vintage boutiques and curry restaurants on Brick Lane by the Spitafields Small Business Association, a not-for-profit organisation which supports community and socially-minded initiatives take flight.

What has developed is a centre which provides more than 300 women a year from diverse cultural backgrounds with a safe space to make new friends and connections, learn valuable knowledge and skills, and engage in enterprise activities to meet their individual needs and family commitments.

I walked into the centre just on lunchtime as spoonfulls of couscous, shepherds’ pie, lentils and beans were being dished up. There was a constant hum of chatter and spikes of laughter as the women caught up after the morning session of classes.