Why I Write
The other day, I was feeling depressed and didn’t know why. My emotions were all out of whack, and my thoughts were all over the place. So I turned to the only activity that makes sense when all seems lost. Writing.
The sun began to set, and the darkness of twilight crept in, but I continued to write, oblivious of my surroundings. Scribbling and scratching until I could no longer see the notebook in front of me, I journaled for over an hour. Which reminded of why I write at all.
The reasons I write
I write to express. I feel like myself when I’m writing. I write not for the purpose of being published or the intention of being read, but for the thrill of putting pen to paper. I write for love of the craft, for the sake of writing itself.
I write to understand. I don’t write because all the answers are in my possession. I write for the same reason Flannery O’Connor did — because I don’t know what I think until it is written. Because by writing, I am able to see things more clearly.
I write to remember. Writing lets me grasp life in ways that would otherwise escape me. It helps me connect with God and the universe and reminds that I’m still breathing and there’s a reason why.
So today, I am grateful for this gift of expression that helps me better understand my thoughts and remember that I am alive.
I write because I can’t imagine not doing so. Because in writing, I become a little bit more of myself.
Why do you write?
I asked some folks on Twitter the reasons they wrote, and here were some of my favorites:
I’d love to invite you into the discussion. You can share why you write in the comments. If you have a blog, feel free to link up to your reason for writing.
Why do you write? Share in the comments.