you know what? i
will come outright and say something that’s been on my heart and is long
overdue.
i love writing.
before we get any
further, let's talk about what this means. am i passionate about
writing? am i a good writer? do i regularly write in a journal or
blog? no, no, and no. but does that mean i can't love writing?
i used to think the answer to this question was yes. i would ask myself,
“how can you say you love writing but not be /do any of those things
above? at best, you just like it. you can’t claim that title for yourself, and you
certainly can’t call yourself a writer.”
it makes sense that a
lot of people are afraid of declaring their passion for something, because they
feel like after they declare it, a certain standard is expected of them, and
they’re afraid of not being able to meet that standard, whether in their own
eyes or in the eyes of others. (a topic for
another day.)
for me, writing is an
activity that is simultaneously freeing and constricting.
freeing because the process of writing is incredibly liberating. it’s taking intangible thoughts in the mind
and solidifying them into concrete words.
it’s the expression and presentation of ideas into a form that is
understandable by the reader. it’s a
mental exercise of the utmost satisfaction.
i like to think of the writing
process as looking into one’s head, seeing the countless thoughts bouncing
around with limited pattern and structure, seizing them and subsequently arranging
them into solid, concrete concepts that are immortalized in the language of words. this “frees” the thoughts from the prison of
the mind and releases them into reality.
it takes potential and realizes it.
constricting because writing is the means to producing a product. it’s creating a product whose value is able
to be determined by how well it achieves its purpose. i’m thinking, if i’m to make a product, i
wouldn’t want to showcase something i don’t believe is of the utmost quality and
accuracy.
take blogging, for
example. in my eyes, a blog is a stage –
a spotlight for one’s writing. MY blog,
MY thoughts, ME. you read my blog, you
read my thoughts, and your idea of who i am is developed through your reading of
what i’ve written. that’s why, for me,
blogging is a big ordeal. when blogging,
i feel an unshakeable need to make sure each blog entry i write is accurately
portraying my thoughts and getting them across to the reader as pure and authentic
as they began in my mind.
i think back to my
pineapplebits.blogspot.com days, when i would get an idea for an entry, and i
would begin writing about it. i’d spend
hours on an entry, making sure each idea presented and word chosen and sentence
formed was exactly as i wanted it to be.
i’d reread it countless times, moving words and phrases and paragraphs
around, changing transitions, deciding between using a comma or two separate
sentences, wondering exactly how many adjectives to use in sequence to achieve
the correct effect.
the whole process of
doing this felt natural, like second nature.
at times, it felt irritating, when i couldn’t phrase things the way i
wanted. above all else, though, it felt
genuine and satisfying. the satisfaction
coming from searching for and finding that right word that perfectly conveys that
elusive idea. take note that i said the
satisfaction comes from the searching and
from the finding – an important point.
writing is not just a means to an end, but a journey on the way to a
destination. a rewarding journey,
through and through.
(on a side note, this
is why i found grade school’s writing process requirements difficult, because i
didn’t quite have drafts- i just
constantly revised and edited as i wrote.
it’s rare for me to compose a sentence that didn’t require some touching
up nearly immediately.)
i think the way i view
the writing process says a lot about myself.
i believe it points to a personal feeling of mine that everything i do is
inevitably evaluated and scrutinized. it
may also point to a personal belief that, in a sense, the products i create are
a reflection of who i am. this may be
the source of the pressure i feel when writing certain things.
when are the times when
i feel the most pressure and feel most constricted in my writing? when the topic i’m writing about is broad,
and when what i’m writing might be referenced later. combining these two factors results in me
trying to create a product that is comprehensive and will stand the test of
time. (more on this later.)
when are the times when
i feel the least pressure and write most openly and unrestrictedly? when i am prompted to answer something or
when i have to present an idea. in these
cases, i have a clear direction and objective, which is to clearly and
concisely communicate an idea to the reader.
i love writing emails. when writing emails, i know someone will read
it, but i know it's not something that's going to be immortalized, so there's
no pressure to get everything perfect and pristine. emails also tend to come with a clear inquiry
or demand which can be satisfied with a clear response.
i love writing in chats. in the same way, a chat is like talking to
someone face to face. during face to
face conversations, one doesn’t often worry about if someone is going to dwell
on a sentence fragment that was fumbled, because it passes by in the flow of a
conversation. although online chatting
is different from talking in person because it has the component of being
logged, the temporary feel of the conversation flow still lends itself to a
relaxed and pressure-free environment.
i love answering
questions. this goes for face-to-face,
too, but something about answering questions in writing is marvelous for the
soul. there have been many times when a
question posed to me has caused me to articulate ideas in a way i never would
have otherwise. something about responding
to a person’s inquiry has a whole different flavor than writing in a journal
about the same topic. so ask me
questions :)
back to the times when
i find it difficult to write, my biggest concern is the worry that something i
write will be incomplete or ineffective.
what i mean is incomplete in conveying the entirety of the idea and
covering its every facet and perspective.
and here lies the problem: how could i even claim to be able to create
something that is finitely comprehensive when ideas themselves are infinite? when you strip away the fancy terms, my
insecurity behind writing is that i am unable to achieve the impossible. i know it, but even knowing it does not remove
the desire.
like jealousy, where the
desire to own a person persists despite the fact that owning the entirety of a
person’s thoughts/feelings/actions is itself an impossible task.
like perfection, where the
desire to meet perfection persists despite the fact that the standard itself is
an unattainable goal.
like progress, where
the desire to always have more and to constantly be better exists despite the
fact that success depends entirely upon circumstance, context, culture, and
comparisons, all of which are arbitrary.
perhaps the best thing
i can do is say that i do not and will not know everything, for that itself is
a statement that will always hold true.
maybe i haven’t yet
found my purpose for writing. maybe i’m trying
too hard to find one.
