Why *do* I write?

Reprinted from December 2009

I’ve been inspired (as I have before) to write a post regarding the reasons behind my writing from the post called Why do I write from Joanna at Wisdom Within, Ink.

Why does she write?

What I know is I was born to put words down on paper and I feel as if I have no choice in that matter. I could never pick up my journal again, throw out my fountain pen, burn all the paper in the house and I would survive. Yes, I’d function. But I wouldn’t be whole. Unfulfilled. I wouldn’t understand or experience life or myself as well as I might. My potential would be gasping for air, struggling to live and I would atrophy into just a human machine. The “being” part of this human would have died.

As for me…

I don’t journal on paper as much as I’d like to, because I have horrid handwriting, even though I wish I would get over that hang-up…but I do feel the need to express myself through the written word for a few very important reasons.

I write to understand the things that have happened in my life, to make sense of what seems incomprehensible and to find the silver lining in the bad events that happen to me or those I care about. I process everything important through writing.

I write to record the events I might otherwise forget in the rush of living. To slow down and savor the moments and re-read them at a later point in time, and re-live those moments when my memory might have wanted to forget.

I write to keep connected to others. I had written my friend R after I went to his school for only 4 months in 8th grade. Had we not written each other letters, we might not now be going on our 25th year of friendship. I wrote my first love for four years while he was in the Navy, and even though we didn’t end up together, we’ve been friends now for 21 years. My wonderful step-mother and dad get to keep up with what’s going on in my life and their granddaughters lives by my writing about it. I have a few good internet friends I like to keep connected to, and even though it isn’t quite the same as having shared history together, it’s still a comfort and a joy to me and I’ve learned a lot from my internet friends, many things I would never have learned otherwise. I owe a few of you a lot of gratitude.

I write to help others through my blogs (this one and my science one and my general education one – the latter two which I’ve taken a hiatus from during most of December). I am very grateful to say I still find people comment and have found comfort as they read my struggles with my highly sensitive, formerly selectively mute daughter and some ideas that have helped them. They find a little bit of hope here, I find our struggles actually have been helpful and comforting to others, even though it was extremely difficult to live through them.

I write because I meet wonderful people or things happen that inspire me to great intellectual/emotional “highs”, and the only way I can bring down the intensity is by capturing my thoughts through typing. This doesn’t happen often…but when it does, I must write in order to channel some of that constructively.

I write because it’s calming and focusing. I type and see the words and I focus better on what I’m thinking about and I know what I want and I am reminded of what’s important to me.

So, yeah, there’s quite a few important areas being served by my writing.

Why do you write?

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About Casey

“the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes ‘Awww!’ ~ Jack Kerouac, On The Road Again
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