Putting it out there

This year has proven to be different from a writing perspective. I’ve posted much less frequently than I did last year, but I’ve probably written more words to date than I have in pervious years at this point. Most of that writing will never see the light of day, but I’ve been doing it. At the same time, I’ve been in a question about what it is exactly that I’m up to here. What do I want to accomplish?

The thing that I most like about writing is surprising myself. I enjoy letting my fingers move, seeing words appear, and finding myself feeling that small amount of elation (sometimes it’s not so small) when those fingers end up putting down some words that weren’t pre-formed, and seem, well, interesting. So, that’s one thing that I could say that I want to accomplish:

To surprise myself.

I also find writing to be a good way to allow thoughts to organize themselves. I’m the sort of person who is pulling information from numerous places. I listen to a fair amount of podcasts; I am generally reading 2-3 books at a given time; I read some blogs and new sites; and I’ve a good number of folks that I have interesting conversations with on a semi-regular basis. All of this can amoount to me having a lot of things spinning around my head — things that I’d like to pull together into some form of coherency. So, we have another thing that I’d like to accomplish:

To sort and articulate my thinking.

So far, it seems, that the point is pretty selfish. It’s about what it is that I need. It seems in some way that all writing must have a selfish quality to it. To presume that others would have an interest in what it is that one has to say implies that one believes it. There is, I think, an inherent selfishness in that. To be seen. To be heard. To be understood. It definitely cuts both ways, for you can see an inward version of these things in the above things that I want to accomplish”. I think, anyway.

I’m not sure if it’s innate in me, or if I’ve bought into some idea that I’ve internalized from people around me — this idea that there is soemthing to say. That said, I think there is. Multiple things, really. Some of them appear as threads in the archives of this space. Some of them have yet to be articulated on the page. Some of them are articulated in journals. Some only known in my body.

To say what I believe I have to say.

That’s a third thing I’d like to accomplish.

The thing is, in order to get to that place, I think I have a couple of hurdles to move past. These are internal things, things that won’t make it here for some time, if ever. One of the things I want to do is to remove the pressure I’ve been feeling myself put myself under. At least, I think it’s myself”. There is definitely a part of me that wonders what the role of conditioning and upbringing have to do with it. A part of which is the play of whiteness in my life. No small topic, that.

I came into this year with an intent to make writing a greater part of my world — to use it as a creative force. I intend to well, keep with that intention. I’ve been liking the possibilities percolating. A key part of this intent is to bring my writing forward into a more public space. Is that here? Is it here? Here? Really, I’m not sure.

Regardless of the vehicle, the intent will be the same — to allow myself the freedom to step into a creative space to learn and share, to connect and to build. I honestly don’t know much more beyond that. Apologies to anyone who things I should. Perhaps together we can learn to trust this thing that is unknown.

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Language I’ll find the specifics of it later. But I was listening to an interview with Stephen Jenkinson this morning, and he said something that struck me.
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Surprising myself The following is a lightly edited version of a voice memo I made to myself on a walk yesterday. I’m finding it point me in the direction that I