I have been reading “Ernest Hemingway on Writing” – inserts of quotations in letters. Topics such as “What writing is and does”, “The pain and pleasure of writing”, the list continues.

One such quotation to paraphrase, love and “writing hard (are) the two things (that) are run by the same motor” (Phillips, 55).

While riding the shuttle in the morning the other day, this thought came to me – mostly because I wanted to be writing and not riding the shuttle.

If love and writing come from the same motor, wouldn’t that be the same for composing music, playing an instrument, sculpting, painting, weaving, knitting, baking, and cooking; filling our lives with color, perspectives, tastes, and sounds?

When we walk into a bookstore, it is the words that fill our hearts and give us inspiration.

When we listen to an artist or band we love – it is really the composition from those artists that came from their hearts, to ours.

When we bake or cook, it is most often for the people we are the closest to, the people we love most.

When we create and exchange with another, we accept the willingness of someone’s hearts into ours and that is love.

This may and does sound corny and that is Okay.

I accept it.

So many times we subtract love out of our lives by grabbing and the pulling at the world, like pulling weeds out of the earth.

But to think, when we stop the grabbing and stop the pulling, we create by making something from nothing.  We are giving our gifts to the world by our hearts and the love we have to share.  Essentially given that, the landscape of the world is truly cultivated by more love than anything else. 

What a nice thought, hey?

Work Cited:
Hemingway, Mary Walsh., Phillips, Larry W. “Ernest Hemingway on Writing.” New York, NY. Scribner. 1984.