Today I visited this post originally written on June 30, 2021 because someone clicked the like icon and I received a notification. So I came over to read and find out why. What did I write? What was the purpose I meant for others reading it? For those who know me (not merely virtually), they have known me as a person who writes and likes writing but not exactly the writer in the writer sense.
It sounds complicated. I too, marvel at my writing and yet am not a writer.
What do I really write about and why? What is the point in my writing?
In many ways writing is living life. First you have to be living to be able to write. Living means having some hope and interest in life, and doing something to make it easier and more meaningful than the usual mundane way of being an existence.
Of course some may choose to be just being and not doing. That is their choice. As for me? I choose to be a doing being even when I hibernate.
The art of being and doing is simple. Daily I find something to do. That something has to have a meaning for me personally. It can be an act of kindness helping someone out. It can be a regular thing like doing a cover design for a friend to add some colors to her videos on YouTube. It can be reading or listening to teachings that help me to become a better/deeper person. It can be just cleaning up my abode, moving stuff around to let the sunshine come in and I can sit at the window to receive my daily supply of vitamin D. It can be receiving a lift to a health food grocer to get the stuff that consist of my main diet. It can be doing physical exercises like walking a mile indoor following the pace of a program onscreen. It can be a brisk walk under the sun to a fish monger and get some fresh supplies.
You would have observed that I have deliberately left out writing and chatting with social network. Why? first I have nothing worthwhile to mention here of both of these activities. Does this mean I don’t chat? No, I do with some usual few chatters, one on business, and others out of duties as family.
What about writing? You would have observed that I haven’t been writing anything of note lately. In a way, there is a shortage of materials to write about. It has been that short since the March 2020 locked down and shut down and sudden vanishing of the world we used to know. I can see how Paul, (the protagonist of a classic book) felt when he thought he lost every desire in his familiar world since birth. He was so accustomed to it that he just could not make himself break away from that past.
Freedom has been my utmost value for a long time since young. I like being free to find out new things, being mobile in spaces and entirely uncluttered. The invisible clutter had crept into many lives. I can see it in their eyes, which are windows to their souls. The worst thing is that many do not know it.
Without freedom there is no clarity anymore. And a person who writes seriously cannot write without clarity in view. We see veils and ambiguous layers upon layers of covers which have flooded the marketplace with beautifully packaged products that happen to be frauds/fakes/counterfeits. That is why I find nothing to write about, unlike before when the sky was clear and blue and both mental and physical visibilities were unclouded. A responsible writer looks at logic and whether the thing makes sense. It is insane to try dressing up something inherently ugly and incoherent, to pass as a dazzling and genuine awe inspiring beauty and imagine that we can fool all people all the time. No genuine and self-respecting writer will want to be a part of any hoax.
what is the point then of writing this post? I am glad you ask.
Well, I just happened to come out of a writing inertia, and saw the notification of a click on the like icon on this blog which led me to read the liked post written by me on June 30, 2021, with the same title as above. Is this a good enough reason for you my friends? No?
Well, I could have done better if motivated. Here is an example of the definition of the word inertia: the thermal inertia of the oceans will delay the full rise in temperature for a few decades. I wonder why this example was used in my laptop dictionary. Whoever who wrote the dictionary must have had some environmental issues on their mind. Someone may look up the term thermal inertia further. Someone may look up the phrase full rise in temperature. Me? I look at the term for a few decades. I am only interested in time.
A few decades. What does it mean when you have lived quite a number of decades. Do you ever wish to live those decades again in a new way?