For the Love of Writing...of Blogging

I have just read BinaryDigit’s Trying to Blog More Often. This was responded to in turn by,

There are possibly others out there as well? Do let me know if you are one.

Why do I blog? I find it hard to put my finger on one solid reason,

  • an outlet for my creativity?
  • because I enjoy writing?
  • to flesh out some ideas?
  • to flesh out something that is bothering me?
  • a form of journaling?
  • to clear my head?

At any one time I sit and type out a blog post for any or all of these reasons, and other reasons…even if I cannot put my finger on the “why?".

I started blogging I think in the early 2000’s. Back then it was to share some ideas that I was trying to explore on the subject of Ecopsychology. I had just completed a Masters Degree in that subject and wanted to go deeper in my own study. I thought that putting some thoughts out on the internet might garner some response and a dialogue ensue. Sadly that didn’t happen from my memory, and those posts are no longer online (though I think that I have some of them somewhere and might resurrect them), however the writing and sharing ignited the interest in me of having a blog.

Then I tried to start a blog based around my then coaching business, but I felt as though I was trying to hard in my writing there. Trying too hard to show up in some certain way that I made up in my head - I have to look like this. That effort brought that incarnation of my blog to an end. The trying took the enjoyment out of the experience.

Robert says (making reference to BinaryDigit’s post),

Feeling free to write casually and whenever you feel like it, as she mentions, is really what it’s all about.

And I agree there, piggy backing off a comment by Alexandra,

Anyone who writes, and writes a lot, will tell you, blogging is one of those things that, like writing (and maybe reading too) we have no control over. The compulsion to share our words is strong and so, we blog.

I find an urge and a joy to cultivate this little corner of the internet that I call my blog. To sometimes share a photo, to sometimes share a short piece of writing, to sometimes share a longer piece (like this one)…and sometimes I don’t share something - time does not allow it, but the itch remains for if and when time does allow.

In writing this I am reminded of my father. He was a doctor by profession, but an artist by first love. After the family had finished our evening meal and the dishes were washed and put away - this was pre-dishwasher days - he would get out his paints and easel, turn the radio on to listen to some music, and paint for the rest of the evening.

Some of those paintings he gave away, some were hung in our house. Once in a blue moon he would exhibit one or two.

He painted because he loved to do so. If someone else loved a painting of his, that gave him joy, and he was happy to just carry on painting anyway.

That is me and blogging. I enjoy writing. It moves me, flexes a creative urge within me, one that I cannot leave alone or ignore - a wish to explain, describe, explore through the written word. I enjoy it for its own sake, for my sake. I am very happy if someone loves what I write or share, and I will keep writing even if the next piece is not seen.