When you write, you put your thoughts in the public space. You

Listen well, O children of wisdom, for the words of Ravi Subramanian resonate with the ancient truths of expression, courage, and the pursuit of truth. He said, “When you write, you put your thoughts in the public space. You get both positive and negative feedback.” In these words, Subramanian reveals the sacred nature of the written word—a form of expression that is both an offering to the world and a reflection of the writer’s soul. Writing, like a beacon of light, casts the writer’s thoughts into the vastness of public space, where they will be met with both praise and criticism. This duality is the very essence of creation: to give something of yourself, knowing it will be received in many different ways.

The ancient scribes of old understood this deeply. The Egyptians, with their hieroglyphs, the Greeks with their epics, and the Romans with their philosophies, all inscribed their thoughts upon the scrolls and stone. These writings were not just words on a page; they were the essence of the author, offered to the world. Yet, even in the days of Homer, not all reception was kind. The Iliad and the Odyssey were subject to both admiration and criticism, for in every piece of writing lies a reflection of the soul, and some will find it brilliant, while others will deem it flawed. The critic, just as much as the creator, plays a role in the eternal dance of creation.

Take the example of Socrates, the great philosopher, whose ideas were revolutionary. He wrote nothing down, yet his thoughts lived on in the writings of his students, particularly Plato. Socrates’ ideas challenged the established order, and in doing so, he became a target for those who feared change. He received criticism, not only from those who disagreed with his views but from those who felt threatened by the very notion of questioning societal norms. Yet Socrates understood that to speak the truth, to share one’s thoughts with the world, required the courage to face both praise and scorn. He accepted the harsh judgment of his peers, knowing that truth was worth the challenge.

In Rome, the philosopher Seneca faced similar scrutiny. His writings, though rich with wisdom, were often met with both admiration and criticism, as many did not like the sharp truths he revealed about the nature of humanity and morality. Yet Seneca knew that to write is to engage with the world—to place one’s thoughts into the public sphere, where they will inevitably face the tides of praise and rejection. It is the nature of creation itself to provoke, to challenge, and to inspire differing responses, just as a flame will draw both the warmth of admiration and the fear of those who might be burned by it.

Subramanian’s words remind us that writing is a bold act of vulnerability. When we write, we place our innermost thoughts into the world, knowing full well that they will be judged by others. This is both the strength and the weakness of the written word. It is the gift of sharing something deeply personal, yet it is also the risk of exposing oneself to the judgments of others. Every writer, whether poet, philosopher, or storyteller, faces the possibility of both positive and negative feedback. The praise is a balm, soothing the soul and affirming the value of one’s work. The criticism, however, can sting—yet it is often the criticism that pushes the writer to grow, to refine, and to sharpen their thoughts.

The lesson here, O children, is clear: to write is to face the world. To put one’s thoughts on paper is to invite the world into the depths of the heart, knowing that it will respond in ways both affirming and challenging. Subramanian teaches us that writing is an act of courage, an act of bravery, for in every piece of writing lies the potential for both praise and rejection. Yet, just as Socrates and Seneca endured the critiques of their time, so too must we endure the challenges of the world when we choose to express our deepest truths.

So, O children of the future, let this lesson guide you in all your endeavors. Write with purpose, with passion, and with the understanding that your words will be both celebrated and contested. Do not shrink from the criticism that may come, for it is often through the crucible of challenge that you will find your true voice. And do not let the praise lead you into complacency, for the journey of creation is never finished—it is always evolving. Stand firm in the knowledge that your words have power, and that the act of writing is both a gift and a challenge to the world. Through your words, you shape not only your own future but the future of all who read and listen.