Writing grows from a mustard seed. It comes from those shattered pieces inside your mind that you feel are ill or broken. The seed latches on to your synapses and travels to your heart and the spaces in between your chest. From just one seed, it grows and it roots to your soul.
Writing comes from love, the water nourishes the mustard seed, planting it deeper into the soil. The love of life, and everything in between. The lack of it, the errors, the yearning and caring, connection to memories. The mustard seed breaks open its shell.
Writing grows from pain. The valleys you travel alone and at times with limited vision, as it becomes food for the mustard seed. Gaining more nutrients from every cortisol you exert into your brain, excreting oxytocin as prevention from stresses, making the heart grow, beating, and increasing in volume. The mustard seed grows deep roots, germinating from your nutrients and hormones.
Writing comes from grit. Never giving up even when others tell you that you're stuck with nowhere to go. Not learning, not healing, not concentrating, not focusing, all with too much emotions. The mustard seed budding with leaves, out of the grown.
Writing comes from soul searching, those times you cry into pieces. The time wasted on sufferings, becomes treasures of experiences, making words deep, grainy, and against the world. The mustard seeds grows into a plant, with branches and its leaves multiplies.
Writing grows from perseverance, although at times the mustard seed was almost crushed, and damaged. The mustard seed keeps growing, the root does not die, instead it clones itself underneath. It multiplies and begins a new growth period. The knowledge of growing from its inception germinates the plant quicker and branches out sooner than its season.
Writing comes from frequent practice, as the mustard seed keeps working in portions, and the small steps leads to more branches and tall shrubs reaching other plants. Network, communicating, working, building relationships, as the mustard seed keeps growing its roots underneath and over the Earth. It is tall, it is green, it is willing to learn its seasons, and the branches thickens.
Writing comes from reading, the mustard seed waters itself, fully functioning on its own as it preserves itself, forever. The mustard seed from my heart, mind, and soul becomes small tree, with small leaves, and as years grow and seasons pass, it lives with the Earth, with its painful past yet, beautiful in form and truth. The mustard seed becomes a tree, yielding pods of seeds as it grows all over the Earth.
Just a mustard seed to write with. Repeat. Just write.