Opening Up, We Never Know What Chord We Touch in Others
On a sunny day of the weekend, while I took a walk, I enjoyed chatting on the phone with one of my dearest friends, who lives in Vienna. Our conversation took an unexpected turn as she shared how deeply moved she was by the story I had told her last time. "Which one?" I chuckled, not sure which of my ramblings had struck a chord with her. "The one about you and your dream of becoming a writer," she replied. "It made me think about my aspirations in those times, like wanting to be the next 'Sigmund Freud' of the world."
Her laughter rang through the phone, but I could sense the depth of her confession. As we continued our discussion, we delved into the topic of wanting something before we were emotionally ready for it or even better: before we set the right intention.
Last time, I opened up to her about my long-held dream of becoming a writer in my twenties, only to realize years later that I never pursued it because my intentions were misguided.
I've always loved writing, and I always did it with my whole heart. I touched hearts too while pursuing it, getting weekly E-Mail from my followers in the times I held a Romanian blog, how deep my articles touched them. But my desire to become a writer stemmed from a wrong need. This is something I understood years later, though. Even though it was made with heart and passion, an untreated wound stood behind my writing. It was the wound of not being good enough and proving to myself and others that I am. It was the pain of not being worthy of love and appreciation only if I "do something great" with my life. In that case, to be a writer.
My writing was deep and profound, but it was not about others, it was all about myself. It was that sick desire to prove myself and people around me that I am more than what they think I am. That I am more intelligent that I seem to be, more deep as a person, smarter etc.
It took me years to realize that my intention from that time with becoming a writer was wrong from the beginning. I have to quit writing, to work on myself and to heal my soul. That's exactly what I did. Only after discovering my purpose and committing to a life of creation, I did realize that sharing is not about us, is about serving others.
How Discovering My Purpose Changed my Beliefs
Discovering art at the end of my twenties was like stepping into a new depth of my soul. A place where I didn't care about becoming someone or proving something to someone else. It was a world where I could connect with God inside me, and knowing that he lives in me was enough. No recognition, no approval, no prize or praise was needed. I was just enjoying this daily encountering with something higher than myself.
Creating art was never about chasing recognition or seeking validation for me. It was about healing, beauty and commitment. Until it became something about connection.
With each stroke of the brush, new sketch or painting, I felt myself connecting deeply with the Creator. I felt a path back to myself. In my studio, the outside world faded away, and it was just me, God and my art. It still is. Creation is my happy place. My favorite place on the earth. It was for four years.
Going daily in my small studio, connecting deeply with my Creator and me, and just being there, at that moment. It healed my soul, my deepest pains, and it opened a door to me, I didn't even know it existed. But when I felt healed, having God in myself and my studio every time I stepped in there was not enough anymore.
When I felt healed, my soul felt the need to share God inside me with the world. Because I understood that if creating art could touch my heart so deep, then my art could touch people's hearts deeper as well. I came to believe that I don't create art for myself, my art has to circulate into the world. It has to touch someone else. It has a purpose.
One day, out of nowhere, I just felt the urge to write again. But this time, it was different. It wasn't about chasing a dream of "being someone" or proving the world that I am better than they think I am. It was about sharing my heart and stories with others, with the hope that my words can inspire someone to look for the God inside of them. To start BELIEVING again.
How Art and Writing Goes Hand in Hand With a Purpose Now
I didn't care anymore about how intelligent my words sounded in my writings. I cared about the message. I cared about what it is that I send into the world with my writing.
I cared about touching someone in a way that he/she would take a look into themselves and feel the hope. That hope and believe that there is something more out there for them. I cared about sharing, not my life, but my experiences, which can touch a chord in someone's heart and start believing.
If art could heal my heart, I believe that there is something out there that could do it for you too. Maybe it's not art, maybe it's something else. God inside you is somewhere there, waiting for you to explore him. I believe that each of us, in our unique way, can create something that will touch someone's heart.
Have you ever shared a story that touched someone's soul? Have you ever had a discussion that let the magic inside you unfold, bringing you to a deep revelation? I would love to hear your story.