Writing about not writing
I love writing, but I don’t really write anymore. In some sense I write most days, but I don’t really write in my own voice, don’t really write with any feeling. I write google docs and research papers in some semi-formal, semi-authoritative voice that isn’t quite my own, about topics I think are important but... sometimes it feels like I’m writing what I think people want to hear, in the way I think I’m supposed to write it, rather than what I really want to say.
I miss writing like this: writing more in stream-of-thought style, writing to help me think. Every few months or so I have a conversation with a friend who asks, “do you ever blog anymore?” and I say “no, not really... I’d like to start again, I get a lot out of it, but I just haven’t quite figured out how to fit it into my schedule.” I come away from these conversations with a deep urge to be writing more again, but also a frustration that this probably isn’t enough to make it happen. I’ve stopped saying “yeah, maybe I’ll really try and start writing properly again...” because I don’t quite believe myself when I say it.
So now I’m writing about the fact I don’t write, because somehow that feels doable. This isn’t a promise to write more, to myself or anyone else, but perhaps at least a reminder of what I value in writing, and an attempt to navigate the frustration I feel with myself for not writing.
What is it about writing? It’s a way to express myself that feels important: I’m one of those people who often finds it easier to express themselves in writing than when speaking. It allows me to clarify my thoughts around things that seem interesting or important, and more than that, I think writing actually helps me to think more clearly about what I think is important and why. When I’m in a habit of writing, I notice interesting thoughts and ideas in a way I don’t otherwise. Writing also feels like a kind of creative outlet to me in a way that’s quite satisfying, even though the things I write might not be considered all that “creative”. In some fairly fundamental sense, I feel like writing helps me to clarify who I am and who I want to be.
Writing like this is important because it’s not writing for anyone else’s purpose or expectations. I want to be able to write like this - just exploring and clarifying my thoughts, not trying to produce a certain output - in a whole range of different ways: to clarify my thinking on specific research questions; to explore my bigger-picture goals and aims; to identify what I’m really confused about or struggling with.
I struggle to write consistently because as soon as I try to set myself goals or a schedule it starts to turn writing into a should, a chore, which largely defeats the point. Writing works best for me when it comes from wanting to write, from having an idea I want to explore or just feeling the desire to get my thoughts down on paper. So now rather than saying “I want to write more, I really need to just find a way to fit it into my schedule”, I’m going to try instead focusing on cultivating and acting on the desire to write: noticing those random thoughts or ideas in conversation that I’d like to explore more, really noticing what I enjoy about writing when I do sit down and do it - and not beating myself up if my motivation doesn’t always fit itself to a consistent schedule.