The process is the goal. I love that mantra and I
do my best to embrace it. Lately though,
when it comes to my writing, I’ve lost my focus. I’ve forgotten why I write and
who I write for.
Why
I Write
Writing down the stories of my life with chronic illness
helps me find stillness in the madness. Writing helps me slog through the
clutter and allows me to see a situation from many different perspectives.
Writing is also cathartic; it guides me through a jumble of emotions as I search
for middle ground between rage and Pollyanna. Hence the name of my blog, Write Down the Middle.
Who
I Write For
I write for me. My stories are my thoughts and reflections about
moments in my life. And when I am
feeling a bit frazzled or melancholy, I can go back and reread a story or two.
It’s like giving me my own pep talk. And I can think to myself, “Gee, you
really are amazing Kelly Girl! You’ve survived so much, you got this!"
How
I Write
For me, writing is an extremely painstaking
process. To quote Ringo Starr, “It don’t come easy.” It may take me a month to write one 600-800
word essay. I agonize over every word; I will read what I have written over and
over and over. Did I make my point? Could I say this in fewer words and not
lose meaning? I write down all my thoughts and work them until they become
sentences. Then I move them around like puzzle pieces, kind of like those old
sliding tile toys that have one open space and you have to keep sliding tiles
back and forth until you get them in perfect order. The rub with writing is
there is no perfect. There comes a time when you just have to hit save and
send!
When I finish writing a story, it can take some
time until I have the fortitude to write another. And in that lull, while I am
resting and re-energizing, comes a certain peace, a calm that I struggle to
explain. It’s almost like I am empty and then life happens and I start to get
filled up with ‘stuff’ until I reach a point of such fullness that I got to let
it out.
Why
I Share
By sharing my writing, I have been offering
friends, family, and strangers little glimpses into my chronically ill life. My
intentions were innocent enough, to foster some awareness and understanding of
the illnesses I live with every day and maybe offer comfort to others in the
chronically ill community. Lately though, I’ve confused the understanding with
approval. When a story I’ve written goes ‘live’, I’ve become like a rat in a
Skinner’s box, checking my social media accounts looking for the sweet
validation of ‘likes’ and ‘shares’. How many today I wonder; none… really? “But
it was such an enlightened and earth shattering story, why haven’t I gone
viral?!”
Lesson
Learned
Earth to Kelly- You don’t need outside approval!
Calm down and go make a sandwich or something. Thanks, that’s some good advice
right there! OK, just being a bit silly. But seriously, I shouldn’t concern
myself with whether anyone likes my stories or even reads them because that’s
not on me.
I will do my best to be done with obsessing over
what others think and what I think they are thinking. It will always be special
when someone finds meaning in my words that is the gift, the bonus, not the
goal.
The
process is the goal.
