ON WRITING | KAIROS GLOBAL | JULY 2026

Author : Sonia Kurian

Intro: Sonia Kurian regularly contributes to Kairos Global’s theme-based In Focus column.

I was asked to reflect on writing for this issue of the magazine, and it really set me on a trajectory of thinking about how I came to write at all. I can trace my love for writing back to my love for reading, and I’ve loved reading for as long as I can remember. I used to be the kid who would sneakily read a book under my desk while the teacher was taking her class. My parents used to lock our home office/study room so I wouldn’t try to sneak books to read from the home library. Every birthday, I asked my parents to buy me books because they were my only access to new ones. I still remember being in middle school when I discovered that our school had a library. I was flabbergasted that this secret had been kept from me for so long. For context, I grew up in Saudi Arabia, where access to public libraries wasn’t the norm. Our school did have a great collection, and it took me no time at all to get hooked on Nancy Drew mysteries, Goosebumps and all other things a child’s imagination would find interesting. 

When we moved to the US, I was ecstatic to know I could spend lunch periods in the library reading, which, of course, I did. I soon became fast friends with the librarians, who would beam and let me know each time my old (and completely stamped) library card was replaced with a fresh one. My mother would be disappointed to learn I was encouraged in my obsessive reading practices, but perhaps she was relieved I was no longer asking for new books to be purchased to feed my appetite. 

Reading is what made me fall in love with words. I realised the power they had over the human mind, the worlds you could discover, and perspectives you could encounter, simply by picking up a book. I always think of the St Augustine quote, ‘The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.’ I often mentally flip this to apply to reading, too. There is something about reading that makes you a well-rounded human being, I believe. It teaches one to never stubbornly make up one's mind or judge without all the evidence, because you might turn the page and discover how mistaken you were. You might realise all the things that the author put right under your nose, and you completely missed until the final reveal, and now you have to call yourself a fool for such reckless behaviour. How much like life this is! How often have we judged others or made up our minds on something, only to encounter a person with the experience we were judging, and suddenly heartbroken to realise our own cruelty and rashness? 

 I have found readers to be amazing conversationalists for this reason as well. Not only are they able to draw from their own lived experiences, but also from all the things they’ve read. The very act of being able to sit still and read has often cultivated in them a deep ability for introspection and reflection. Even the hot takes that come from readers are thoughts that have been deeply considered before being spoken out loud – a hot take from a reader is probably something you should listen to keenly. 

This, of course, then naturally paves the way to writing. One must be able to introspect, to wonder, to sit in the maddening unknown and bear the suspense of putting a book down because your work meeting just started. These are all great character-building blocks for writers. To possess a rich and complex mind filled with all the stories and characters you have consumed over the years, to begin to consider ‘What if the story didn’t go the way the author wrote it? What if something else happened instead?’ And there you will be, exercising your imagination and creating something out of a seemingly blank page of infinite possibilities staring back at you. Writing teaches you to listen and be patient as well. Sometimes your brain whizzes faster than you type, and you must lift your pen off the paper to rearrange your thoughts and pen them down post-recollection. Other times, you may vomit out half a page and go back to discover you need to pick up the scissors and edit. 

Flannery O’Connor once said, ‘I write to discover what I know,’ and I have found this to be true for myself. Often when I sit to write, I have decided on a thought to share, but in the process of writing, I discover what I truly know and feel. At times, I discover I know nothing at all, and I'd better read more before I pretend to be an armchair expert on the subject. Other times, I find my initial stance completely wrong, and I should either refine or change it completely to align with facts that have come to light. Writing helps you feel the edges and borders and gaps of what you know, and thus teaches you where to go next. If I never sat down to define my thoughts, I shudder to think how many conversations I would enter into unprepared and discover midway through that I have egg on my face.

Editing is yet another vital skill and life lesson from writing; to be able to say to your own thoughts and characters that you so lovingly brought to life, ‘I cannot use you, I must leave you off the page so the reader won’t get too cross-eyed with confusion or overwhelmed by details.’ It also teaches you that every word that falls off your fingers is not as necessary or as precious as you thought. Sometimes, silence and biting your tongue help you to better achieve your end goal. There are places to be reverent and let the space do its work. Editing is a fantastic lesson in humility, to learn how to make yourself into something your reader can understand and thus take a bite out of and enjoy. It is no use to be fantastically verbose and have no one understand your point because they got too distracted by the fluff. 

Writing also helps you discover your voice or thoughts on a topic. It’s possible you are not the expert on AI, but there is a deep feeling, a gut instinct, that when you begin to talk or write about it, gains more clarity. Your thoughts had a substance that only you, with your unique experiences and particular loves, could see. We are the model for data compilation after all, that technology is attempting to imitate. From the time we are born and can’t even speak or lift our heads, we are already watching everyone around us, absorbing massive amounts of information daily, and learning what it means to be human – to laugh, to cry, to console, hug and compliment. Our unique lived experiences further enrich this human experience. How my mother and grandmother grew up are wildly different from how I did, yet we can collect, integrate and apply these experiences spanning generations to our lives in 2026. 

Isn’t this what we do when we read Scripture as well? Somehow, these words told as stories millennia ago, and written down, can be read today and applied to my life this week. I once had someone describe this to me as different perspectives on the same mountain. Depending on your position or the height scaled, what you see will be different from what another person standing elsewhere on the mountain sees. Not that one of you is right and the other entirely wrong, but rather that your perspective adds to their view and theirs to yours, thus helping us all think about and solve a problem better. What an incredibly wise way for God to design us that we would rely on each other and on our communities, and always need each other to truly move forward in life.

Writing for Kairos has been, as such, a deadline that forces me to come up for air from the hustle and bustle of life, take a few hours to flex my creativity and give it some room to breathe. I am keenly aware of my creativity, often lying in the corner gathering dust, my stubborn refusal to broach it until I am forced by a request to write on a topic and my inability to say ‘no’ to others. I’m grateful for all my Chechis and Chettans who work behind the scenes as my handlers, constantly reminding me of my due dates and deadlines and being the thread that tethers me when I want to go my own direction with the themes they carefully shape for me. Their hard work takes my writing and polishes it to a digestible and admirable form that often arrives on the pages in front of you, dear Reader. I will ask you, dear Reader, if you have ever wanted to sit down to write and create anything at all, perhaps this is your sign to please go for it.

In the age of AI, where technology is quickly trying to swallow up and imitate the arts, we need genuine creatives to come forward and show how creativity is not just something stuck in palely imitating the past, but rather is something active and richly aligned with our God, who is always creating and making something new, even in places where all hope is lost. We need humans, with active and alive human experiences, to show the rich tapestry of life that is worth the dignity and preciousness that God awards it. While AI can only look at the past and imitate it, true creativity is what can break the mould and imagine something no one before you ever had. 

Sonia Kurian believes in life lived to the fullest, which often means being present and attentive to the small moments each day brings. She works in Houston, USA, as a Technical Program Manager in the healthcare sector. Her interests include collecting books as if her life depended on it, reading in awkward positions, iconography and animated karaoke sessions in her car. She strongly believes God has a sense of humour and sees her life as an adventure worth discovering with Him.