Why do I write? What is my goal? Must I have a goal or is enjoyment sufficient?
There are several reasons I write, but clearly, no reason is good enough to actually make me write on a regular basis:
- Mental health
- Sharing struggles, getting encouragement, encouraging others
- Entertaining people
- Building a platform for self-publishing
- Honing my craft and becoming a better writer
Recently, I’ve been so busy that when I do have time to write, it’s so brief that I obsess over what to write about, how it will improve my mental health, and whether I can articulate myself well enough to publish it as a blog.
In the past, I’ve experienced some amazing emotional breakthroughs as a result of writing. I’ve come to expect this every time. However, writing is more than a means to an end.
It’s writing something beautiful that doesn’t make the faintest bit of sense. It’s writing something creative about things I don’t understand. It’s letting words speak for themselves rather than forcing them to make sense of the mess I’m in. It’s letting go of how my writing is interpreted. It’s letting the end leave me with questions rather than answers. Isn’t this why I love creativity? It isn’t mathematical; it’s free flowing. You let it take you down an unknown path and perhaps you discover something unexpected.
Since when has enjoyment been a waste of time? I can allow myself to be frivolous in my writing. Even if I publish it on my blog, it doesn’t have to follow the formulaic problem/solution format that leaves everyone satisfied and smiling.
People scour the internet for answers, googling each and every burning question. They’ve no patience for memoirs – they want a step-by-step guide written by a robot. They want life hacks. They don’t want creativity and fluff. But some googlers do want this. My blog does get traffic. I hope it’s not because they’re looking for answers. Life can’t be hacked. Believe me, I’ve tried.