I’ve done this whole blogging comeback post too many times in the past. Facing this truth, it’s a bit upsetting to realise how short of commitment I have been to this endeavor. If I were to be completely honest with myself, I have been blogging for over a decade now, but have built and destroyed the many blogs that came before this one. I actually started doing this when I was in highschool, in the days of Livejournal and clogs. That was a long time ago. While I love the feeling of tapping away on my keyboard freely and find the idea of easily sharing my thoughts and discoveries with likeminded people amazing, a part of me always seem to play devils’s advocate and ask the one question I can’t really answer – Who gives a shit?
Excuse my french. But really, who does? There is so much fluff floating around the internet and my digital real estate feels like it isn’t worth a single penny. On a daily basis, we flood our timelines with random news and unsolicited views on the world. We are all desperate to be heard, to be noticed. And for what?
I had to really sit down with myself and think about this. Why do I want to write? What good will it do the world? What good will it do me?
One of the things I do for my job is write. When I first recieved this job offer, I thought it was an amazing opportunity to develop my writing. I thought I would inspire and touch the lives of others. I can’t say it has. Writing for others, under their set of rules and writing their required topics, is robotic and uninspiring. It has completely stunted my growth in writing, and my overall enthusiasm for it. This is what happens when you write for others and not for yourself. Writing, as I have discovered, is a selfish endeavor. It is a habit done to benefit one’s self, first and foremost. It is putting thought to paper, primarily to have a hold on our ever changing ideas and to satisfy ourselves with having an outlet for them. As human beings, we crave communication. We always strive to put ourselves to words. Entertaining others and changing the world with your point of view are desired but not required outcomes to writing.
There are many psychological benefits to writing, and in truth, it does help you hush your head. It puts things in perspective. It keeps you sane. I want to write because I want to share my thoughts, if not with others, then with a future version of myself. I want to dissect my ideas. I want to remember moments and experiences. I want to expand my vocabulary and be a better communicator. We all crave to be heard but we never put the effort to find the right words. We echo what other people say because it is easier that way. Well, I have a mind of my own. Vain as it may seem, I gladly open the doors into it. It’s up to you whether you find value in exploring it.
Malcolm Gladwell said it perfectly in his book, What the Dog Saw – “Good writing does not succeed or fail on the strength of its ability to persuade. … It succeeds or fails on the strength of its ability to engage you, to make you think, to give you a glimpse into someone else’s head – even if in the end you conclude that someone else’s head is not a place you’d really like to be.”
From this day forward, I write for me.