Why write: Let the practice be a rebellion against the things that hold you back

Too much of our educational and cultural conditioning imposes the oppressive and stultifying idea that everything has to mean something or take us somewhere grand and significant. But that's largely a lie constructed for the convenience of social narratives designed to impose a purpose upon us for the sake of systems and productivity, measured against agenda-driven notions of value.

To give in to this notion, to be stunted in our expression out of fear of not fitting the mold, to be rendered silent from doubting we’re not “good enough” in ways that measure up to external parameters, is a recipe for dissatisfaction via delusion. If we’re not wise to it, this surrendering of a sense of purpose, value and merit to outside forces robs us of the chance to feel for ourselves, to know for ourselves.

Writing for the sake of writing, is a rebellious, revolutionary act.

In writing for the sake of writing first and foremost, rather than for praise or acclaim or recognition, we learn to trust our own wisdom instead of seeking external validation to confirm that our lives, our endeavours, our words or our thoughts matter.

In committing to the process, that is what makes it worthwhile; we get to know without having to be told that what we decide to do is inherently worth the time we give it; there doesn’t need to be anything more. To think there does is likely a view we’ve adopted that isn’t necessarily our own.