Why write? Tonight I'm dwelling on why I do this, why it is the one constant in my life? Currently this frame of mind is influenced by the Israeli incursion into Gaza (perpetually playing in the background via BBC), a recent viewing of the Reaganite film Field of Dreams, and a specific kind of loneliness that comes from the realization that the person you love has thrown you out with the bath water.
So why write? I write because I am; because I live; because I feel; because I love; because I desire; because I hate; and because I can. But what does that mean? I write because I see myself as a protagonist in the story of my life, and because every experience has meaning to it. Since life, specifically earthling life, is short in the context of this planet and universe, we have only a few opportunities to make something of significance out of our lives, to understand what our lives mean, and to give those who will come after us a chance to learn from us. Unlike Kevin Costner however, I am not seeking some reconciliation with my Dad, and unlike America, I am not seeking to (re)create a past that never actually existed.
Rather I want to make a life for myself that has a purpose. But this is not some drive to 'fit in' with the majority, or to create some kind of Utopian society; instead it is a completely personal quest. Most likely the only person who will benefit from this writing, and the sense created out of my experiences, is me. The process of writing, to me, is similar to cleaning up my room. The 'clutter' lying all around my floor is experience and information. Writing, like cleaning up, is the opportunity to organize these experiences in a way that makes them accessible and meaningful. I can order and catalogue my life, assign emotion and significance, so I show myself what I want and what I don't want.
Experience is like refined notes and raw sounds; it allows us to define and test the limits of our identity so that we can find the path most appealing and comforting to us. I fear this is something that most people do not do however (writing and synthesizing their experience), and as a result never get a good sense of why: why they do what they do. There is, of course, the other extreme, which is the one closer to my state-of-mind. That is, those who are committed to the possibility of finding significance and meaning from experience, ultimately never settle on their own identity, busy as they are being critical and engaged in the search for "what it all means". There is a very real danger in being so obsessed with the search, that you miss the meaning. Thus, it is equally important to have your own conclusions. These conclusions are personal, and can always be, and maybe should be, revised. Like everything else in life, these conclusions are contextual, and subject to change.
In truth, perhaps as the result of experience and influences, I also write because I find myself somewhat alienated from the world. It is an uncomfortable experience to be sure, to be alienated, and thus I try to counter it by seeking out things, activities, theories, and dogmas, which will help me stop feeling this way. But as much as the alienated individual is "unhappy", I think they are, more than a powerful politician or a rich tycoon, the earthlings who move us all forward. Maybe I say this because I feel myself as a kindred spirit, but I also think that artists and philosophers have done more good than all others (good in the 'greater good' sense, but I would credit kind individuals and teachers with doing much 'localized' good). Writing, in the context of what I have written above, is how I am trying to deal with my alienation from the rest of the world. I seeing it as that which helps me deal with everything, from the daily grid to the war in Gaza.
Writing is also a practical activity: if I never get paid for it, that is ok. I won't be tearing up some large acreage of my corn field to create my text, it only takes up a tiny portion of cyber-space. I can also do my writing any time I feel like it, thus it can be fit-in between activities that are economically beneficial; I can write on the train, during lunch, in the evening, early in the morning, and maybe during the quiet moments at work. I can write in public forums, or I can write privately. It is, as my dear friend Simon would say, cheap and cheerful.
There is no moral or ethical value system assigned to this experience, nor is there a judgment of where one will end up at the end of this journey. In one sense I am suggesting that we each have a unique path to follow, and we each must find the thing that makes us happy and fulfilled. Now, there is some ambiguity in such a statement, and means you might argue this justifies people following a path taht creates pain and suffering for others. Maybe someone finds fulfillment in going to war? I see the argument, but I reject it. As I said, I am not moralizing, and I am not suggesting that the path to fulfillment must fit within a certain moral or ethical code. But I would suggest that anyone who takes the time to explore their identity, to try on various masks, to critically view their most mundane and most extraordinary experiences, will rarely make violence a key part of their life. This type of self-exploration and discovery takes an open mind and a profound respect (maybe even love) for others. It takes a bit of courage, and willingness to interact with a huge diversity of people.
How then, after all that, can you still what to see harm come to the others? How can you, after witnessing the beautiful and the tragic, decide the tragic is better? I don't think you can. If you do, then you have not reached an understanding of yourself in the context of everything else.
