Our lived experiences are not like paragraphs in an argumentative essay, we do not lay them out to prove a preexisting notion, rather, it is the writing process itself which guides us to meaning, sometimes leaving us with more questions than when we started.
If we have already lost much of the stillness required to just 'be', or to create art, just how much more are we willing to lose - how many books will be left unwritten, how many paintings won't be painted, how many Get Back’s will never be composed?
What gives one the confidence to forge ahead, to believe they have something worth saying, worth creating?