"Firstly and finally, and all along the line, you write because there's something you want to write, have to write. For yourself."
~Harold Pinter
I've been reading Pinter's works lately for my dissertation, and I came across this line from his introductory essay "Writing for Myself" in Pinter: PLAYS: TWO. Immediately, a resonance pulsated in my stomach, for I write for my "self" as well.
As a journal keeper (not an avid one, but I'm still keeping one since primary school), for a long time I didn't know how therapeutic writing was to me, and that it's been helping me organizing my thoughts, understanding unknowable things, and deriving theories to solve issues that I was (am) dealing with, in which sometimes (or most of the time) went uneventful. Yet, writing (and reading too) still worth it, for I believe that it has the ability to expand the non-empirical part of the body--the mind, spirit and soul--through learnings of humility, compassion, and kindness with lots and lots of courage, love, and self-forgiveness. I don't know this for certain and I don't truly understand it yet, but I can feel it like how any body should feel it deep within their "selfs."
Whenever I write whether work of fiction, non-fiction, poetry, reflections, journal entries, a blog post, or even academic essays--I'm dealing with my "self" in relation to my external world, and this has its own complexities (a story for another day). But so far in my writing adventure, I have learned and am learning (through hard and uncomfortable ways) that to be honest with myself is to be courageous in putting myself in that aching, vulnerable positions, and also to be willing to learn and accept both the beautiful and ugly truths, and the uncertainty of the fluid future.
I have so many questions piling up in my head everyday. So, the idea of settling down for a routine, mundane job is like starving myself, which is very ironic because writing is a lonely routine. But to me, writing is not dull for it satisfies my curious mind (and I'm not saying that writing is easy and fun here). Rather, it is a part of the process of evolution (at least to me); a growth in pursuing the best version of myself.
So this blog post, a personal reflection, I write to remind myself that writing is my home, where perfect sense of belonging resides, because love, grace, self-acceptance, and self-forgiveness are endless and abundant here, despite its difficulty and hardship.
Maybe writing is not your "home," but whatever it is, go do it for yourself, and listen to its process carefully, in silence.