Why I write

In the past days a few people have commented on my writing. Either making a joke, a compliment or simply asking ‘what’s up with all the writing?’

I can go on without writing for weeks, but then there are moments -like this particular Sunday morning- where words just pour from my fingertips. When my mind is tired of hearing itself so it needs to be splattered on a piece of paper or screen.

I really began writing when I traveled to South Africa in 2012. I promised myself I would write every day I was on the trip. There were days I didn’t write but then I made it all up and sat down and wrote for hours about the days I had “skipped” and it was the best decision ever. Now, I can go back on my blog and read about absolutely every day of that three-month trip. Reading the post’s I can go back in my mind and remember exactly the scene, the feeling, the moment and it’s a great gift I have made for myself.

After that trip, and for a few years, I tried more than once to force myself to write…whether it be a short paragraph or about a certain subject but the more I forced it the harder it was. And so, there were months and months of no writing. And there were moments or days when I wrote a lot. Someone -reprochable- asked me once “Why do you only write about the bad things, the sad moments, why can’t you write about how happy you are?” and I remember feeling so bothered by this…you see, the fact that you are reading this now, that I chose to publish this for the world, gives you no power of demand over what I chose or not to write. And also, when I’m happy I rather be embracing and living that moment, my mind isn’t all over the place with thoughts…endorphins are doing their thing and the fingers get a break. 

When I decided to travel to S.E Asia I promised myself I would do the same as in South Africa. And I did…for a bit. I wrote every day for the first three weeks. I was at Vagabond Temple for the first two weeks so it was therapeutic in a way to write down everything I was feeling and living. I still re-read those posts and feel so happy about the journey I have been through. Eventually though, after leaving the temple, and traveling around the country, moving every few nights and doing non-stop activities every day I was too tired to write and the days just kept piling up. Eventually, when this ‘trip’ turned into ‘real life’ I didn’t feel obliged to write anymore. I still do though, and I love those moments when I’m about to sleep but thoughts come rushing in my head and I follow through with that urge to write without even reading what comes out afterwards.

Lately I have not written here (on the blog) that much, but my journal is getting filled up quite quick. Although I enjoy publishing my feelings, hoping that other might feel the same way I do at times, and just getting it out there…I am also aware of the power of words and the power of the internet –once something is out there, it’s there forever- so I try to be as respectful as I possibly can, taking into account other people’s feelings or identities and although this means I edit myself at times it doesn’t stop me from writing.

The beauty of writing is that it’s main audience is the author. I write for me. I write to let go of things. In the past months I have written dozens of letters that will never reach the hands of those they are directed to. I write as a tool to let go of thoughts and feelings. It helps me clear my mind and unravel my thoughts. At times I’ll write pages upon pages to someone and never even go back to read them. Because I’ve learned that although sometimes we need to feel listened, most of the times we just need to be able to speak and put out our emotions out there, outside our hearts and minds, and simply let them go…no need for approval or comments from anyone.

Writing has been therapeutic to me and perhaps that’s why it’s so hard when I try to force myself to write about something in particular and even though I’ve had the opportunity to for example write a travel article I freeze up and have no idea how to proceed. I haven’t learned the skill of writing on demand, it’s more like a free flowing river that starts and stops depending on the weather. And so, today I am happy and overjoyed of having found this outlet that calms my mind and restless spirit, which forces me to sit still and focus. I am forever grateful with myself for embracing it and hopeful that maybe by having this little space online where I can put down my words maybe others will (in one way or another) feel inspired, connected, understood.

 

marianto

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