i'm in love.

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.