A friend once asked me before, "I mean, you've written it on a public space, so why can't you talk about it?"
It's funny. I could never explain how I could be so open about my thoughts and life on this space, in letters and in writing, and yet feel so intensely guarded about them on a face-to-face basis. I find it awkward when what I write becomes part of conversation. It takes me time to transit between being open with what I write and candid talk. I don't particularly fancy talking about my writing. It makes me self-conscious.
I could never explain why until I met the man. This fine man, whom I had imagined to be a wrinkly, crinkled quiet old man but who instead, was a greying man with an exuberant personality and hair which looked like it had been shocked by all his electrical thought waves, the kind Einstein had.
Suddenly, as the words left his mouth, I understood. I understood that part of me which was lost in translation and had now found its way home to a piece of my heart and being which I thought had been lost forever.
Philip Yancey is the amazing author with multiple award-winning international best-sellers which have sold more than 15 million copies around the world. He is responsible for famous works such as Where is God when it hurts?, Disappointment with God, and Fearfully and Wonderfully made. Last week, I met the man and spoke with him. He came to Singapore from Colorado, USA to give a writers' workshop for authors and writers-to-be. I was fortunate enough to attend it because my professor let me take the morning off.
It was amazing.
If you read his writing, you will find he does not talk about how he has succeeded time and again to reach God. Instead, he writes of his many failures and ruined attempts, and of God's success in reaching him in those times. He is exceptionally candid.
During the question and answer session, I asked him a question. Because A Taste of Rainbow is now with my publisher and in progress, because it is a book birthed from an intensely personal journey, and because its effectiveness to reach the hurting will also depend on how comfortable I am in being open about my experience, I wanted to know how Philip coped with his audience's response. How much do you decide to share, especially when this encroaches on your private life and when your work evokes a response in the audience which you eventually have to deal with?
He replied, " I have 2 worlds. Writing is my private world, and then meeting people is another world altogether. When I write, the 2 worlds are completely separate. They do not mix. This gives me the freedom to share, to express myself, in a completely genuine way. Because I believe writing should be authentic. In that private world, I do not care what others think. I write for myself, because I am able to work out my faith using words. I write for myself, and to my astonishment, my writing encourages others too. So, to answer your question, just let it all out, authentically, in that private world of yours, and don't let anything stop you. Because only then, do you honour both the craft and God."
Suddenly, in those words, I discovered and understood a part of myself I never did, and could never articulate. It is true. I write for myself, and I keep writing here because the emails I receive from strangers from time to time astonish me, that what I write brings occasional encouragement to someone else. But to be honest, I write because I am simply, looking for God. That is all. And the only way to do it, is to be honest, authentic and plainly, genuine. Speech, and everything else, are merely interfaces I am less comfortable with, interfaces which I can never be completely true to, because I find image, and speech and this mindlesssenselessboggling talk all very cumbersome. I am a hindrance to what I am trying to say. But words on a page, ah, have such passive and quiet power. They sit there, and it is okay if you do not read them. They only engage you if you accept the invitation to be engaged. Words in speech, have the potential to be too in-your-face. Body language and tone and image are troublesome things.
I write from my heart, because it is the only way I know. I don't fancy talking face-to-face about my writing, because it is my private world, even though it is on a public platform. It is the paradox of what Philip talked about, being as candid as possible to be true to God and the craft and your audience, and being careful not to let the 2 mix because it makes one self-conscious, distracted and therefore untrue to the craft and God. His words helped me understand my own humanity and vulnerability, in realising that one is still human, still shy, sheepish and embarrassed about talking through certain things.
So thank you, Philip, for helping me understand this part of my humanity which I felt like a fool for not being able to reconcile. It is simply, the paradox of writing. The writer's paradox.
Because of you, I now understand that part of me which was lost in translation and has now found its way home to a piece of my heart and being which I thought had been lost forever.
Philip Yancey! Love his crazy hair.
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