Words, Words, Words.
24 April, 2009 § Leave a comment
Recent realisation, perhaps sparked by a renewed desire to make writing a more daily discipline again: fatigue, travel or a strong emotional state of being – – joy, grief, doubt, exaltation, etc – – all tend to be my greatest inspiration for putting the proverbial pen to the paper. And yet where does that leave me when none of those ingredients are present? Where, I ask you?
What puts you in the mood to express yourself through words? And what is your greatest motivation in doing so: sheer catharsis through self-expression? The desire to effectively communicate something to someone else, thereby leaving your mark on the world? Connecting with someone or something outside of yourself? A need for recognition? (Indeed, I’ve long been convinced that the desire to know and be known is one of the most underestimated yet key driving forces behind human connections today).
More often than not, I grapple with the balance of transparency/mawkishness to the extent that I decide to simply withold from writing altogether. But a lack is not necessarily an antidote. Or so I’ve been told.
O, the mentally ethical debate involved with blogging…
I admit it, I am a fickle lover o’ ye pen. There will be stretches – – sometimes entire months at a time – – when I write, either for my own eye or for the general world to view, at least once every other day. Before I know it, anywhere from three weeks to three-quarters of a year can go past without much thoughtful verbal expression. And yet, although it’s freeing to be rid of the academic mandates for verbosity and expression demanded by institutions of higher learning, I am finding that I miss the fluidity that comes with such recurring patterns of phraseology. So while I am not necessarily chomping at the bit, anxious to return to the linguistic regimen found within educational settings, I am also determined to make a better habit of turning writing into a frequent discipline. Hopefully such discipline will soon transform from a conscious effort into a more instinctive outpouring. And who knows, if nothing else, maybe it is by seeking to better understand the world around me that I will also come to a richer understanding of God, of you and of me. In that order.
(NOTE: in the photo above, taken during a Saturday afternoon picnic last week, the boardwalk winds through one of the hidden treasures near my home in western New York: a genuine bog. It not only boasts of a gorgeous view but also houses the near-extinct pitcher plant. Herbologists and botanists alike come from all over the world to explore Moss Lake – – and the majority of the people that live nearby are barely aware it exists. Ironic. And yet delightfully uncrowded and therefore one of my favorite places to be).