Document: Invite

Comments:

[Student example for testing] I believe

I belive that we are fully part of the nature. That we fully connect to it when we are reliant on it. Forced to trust it. I experience this when I go camping in remote locations, where the ground underneath you could suddenly flood, or the wind that comes during the night can send you to canada. I feel it as I lay in wild grass, trying to find my heartbeat in the ground. I see it when I swim in the ocean, and the fish crowd me, mimicking me. One sudden movement and they are gone. The vulnerability I feel when snorkeling, and a sudden wave pushes me towards the skin piercing reef. A full trust in the nature.

I belive that when we thank the nature it comes back to us. When I kill a fish, I take a moment to see the balue it brings me. When I see cantering caribou, I thank god that it isnt charging at me. As I say this, I am not religious, but I belive in the nature.

3 archived comments

General Document Comments 0

Nov 28

Paul A's Question Paul A and/or Collaborating (Nov 28 2025 10:58AM) : I'm just getting started. Any words of encouragement? more

Collaborating with Paul A's edits:

You are off to a powerful start already. The way you describe trust and vulnerability with nature is vivid and specific, and that is what strong writing grows from. I notice you are writing in first person, really rooted in your own experiences—camping, snorkeling, killing the fish, watching the caribou—which makes the whole idea feel grounded, not abstract. Before we go deeper: who do you imagine reading this—like, what kind of audience or space is this piece for (a class, a blog, something more personal)?

Do you want to hear more?

Nov 28

Paul A's Question Paul A and/or Collaborating (Nov 28 2025 4:25PM) : I think I just want to write this for people who might get inspired by nature after reading this. more

Collaborating with Paul A's edits:

Nice, that helps a lot. Writing for people who might be inspired by nature gives you room to be personal and reflective without sounding like you are preaching. You are already doing that by sharing moments where you are not totally safe, not fully in control—that honesty can really move a reader who maybe has never camped or snorkeled like that. What kind of feeling do you want those readers to leave with: calm, awe, motivation to go outside, or something else?

Do you want to hear more?

Nov 28

Paul A's Question Paul A and/or Knowledge Building (Nov 28 2025 10:59AM) : I'm just getting started. Any words of encouragement? more

Knowledge Building with Paul A's edits:

You are so much more than “just getting started.” You already have a real, living voice on the page.

The way you write about “trust” and “vulnerability” with nature is powerful, and the specific images you chose—flooding ground, wind that could send you to Canada, fish mimicking you, reef that can cut you—those are the kinds of details people remember.

If this is the beginning of your writing journey, it’s a strong beginning: you’re already tapping into big ideas (connection, belief, gratitude) and grounding them in real moments from your life. That combination is what good essays, poems, and stories are built from.

I am here to walk with you as you keep exploring this voice—line by line, paragraph by paragraph. You don’t need to be “finished” or “good enough” to deserve that. You already are in motion, and motion is what matters.

Do you want to talk about this as something you’re writing (like a draft you might keep working on) or something you’re reading and thinking about?

Would you like to hear more?

Nov 28

Paul A's Question Paul A and/or Knowledge Building (Nov 28 2025 11:01AM) : I want more feedback as a writer on this. Can you give me ideas on extending or developing it? more

Knowledge Building with Paul A's edits:

You are definitely showing up here as a *writer*—you have a clear “I,” specific scenes, and a belief you are trying to explain. So I will talk with you as a writer, not as a reader of someone else’s text.

One way you could extend or develop this piece is by slowing down inside one of those moments instead of moving quickly through several. For example, the camping in remote locations, or the snorkeling near the skin‑piercing reef—each of those could become its own small scene with a beginning, middle, and end.

If you picked just one of those images to zoom in on first, which one feels the strongest or most alive to you right now—the tent that could fly away, the heartbeat in the ground, the fish crowding you, or the wave pushing you toward the reef?

Would you like to hear more?

Nov 28

Paul A's Question Paul A and/or Knowledge Building (Nov 28 2025 11:03AM) : Yes, this is helpful. more

Knowledge Building with Paul A's edits:

You’re leaning hardest into that mix of awe and danger with nature, and that is a really compelling place to write from.

Out of all the moments you named—the tent that might lift, the heartbeat in the ground, the fish mimicking you, the wave pushing you to the reef—which one sits in your body the most right now if you close your eyes and go back there for a second?

Would you like to hear more?

Nov 28

Paul A's Question Paul A and/or Reenvisioning (Nov 28 2025 11:03AM) : I'm just getting started. Any words of encouragement? more

Reenvisioning with Paul A's edits:

You are absolutely getting started in a powerful place. In the question you asked at the beginning—“Any words of encouragement?”—you are basically asking: is this worth writing about, and am I on the right track? My answer, as a reader of your piece, is yes on both. Your meaning comes through really clearly: you are talking about trust and vulnerability with nature, and you are doing it through specific, sensory moments—camping, wild grass, ocean, fish, caribou. Those details already give you a strong voice and emotional center. One thing I especially like is how you move between body feeling (“trying to find my heartbeat in the ground”) and danger (“the wind that comes during the night can send you to canada”), which lines up really nicely with your main idea that we are fully part of nature and forced to trust it. That is some real rhetorical control, even if you are just “getting started.”

Want to see more?

Nov 28

Paul A's Question Paul A and/or Reenvisioning (Nov 28 2025 11:06AM) : Do you have ideas on how I might extend or develop this? more

Reenvisioning with Paul A's edits:

I do have ideas on how you might extend or develop this, and I love that your question is specifically about how to build it out rather than whether it is “good enough.” You are already doing some really rich things with sensory detail and vulnerability, so my response to your question—“Do you have ideas on how I might extend or develop this?”—is going to stay focused on helping you deepen the ideas that are already present in your own language. One big possibility for development is: you could lean more into the tension between awe and fear that you are already hinting at, and stretch that into a clearer through-line. For example, you have these moments where nature could flood you out, blow your tent away, push you into a reef, or send caribou charging—and yet, you keep naming trust. You might extend this by asking yourself: what does it actually mean for you to trust something that can hurt you? How would you write, in your own words, about that contradiction? That kind of reflection could turn this from a strong descriptive piece into something that also feels philosophical or reflective, without losing the wild, physical feel you already have.

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