A Writer's Woes 7: Why do I need to Write?

                    A Writer's Woes 7: Why do I need to Write?

Never have I been more perturbed by the question "Why?". It has been almost a year since I published a blog post. And when I question myself why I didn't write for so long, the immediate retort that hits me from the back of my mind is "Why do I need to write?"

After all, life has been the same. I was occupied with my profession when I used to write...and more so now. There were a few people who used to appreciate my writing when I used to write - but not one has asked me why I have stopped writing in a while. My literary language has lost some of its sheen and is rusty - but my job doesn't demand the style. 

There were triggers to write - though few and far in between. But none of them creating a disturbance enough in the mind that drives one to give shape to the thoughts and bring them to life through words. And then the assumption of maturity - that you don't allow thoughts to disturb you. Rather, you just turn a blind eye to them and pretend the triggers don't exist.

The way I used to turn a blind eye is by pretending I was busy. Not entirely busy, but just busy enough to keep myself away from a session of writing. It was as though I was losing the art of setting aside a time to just observe my thoughts. And subsequently, losing the urge to document and reflect upon them.

Ofcourse, the most mundane explanation is I was(am) lazy to put pen to paper or rather...fingers to keyboard. Come to think of it, laziness is just a manifestation of lack of intent. Again, a consequence of "Why?" Whenever Why has an extrinsic answer and not an intrinsic one, the urge dies down with time. (This is something that I heard a lot of times recently, from eminent speakers to a friend and can connect with the statement). The laziness in a vicious cycle is bound to feed the lack of intent. 

Another conflict that has been running in parallel is the one between motivation and discipline. What is more crucial? Do you stay disciplined because of motivation? Or do you remain ruthlessly disciplined that motivation is only the initial spark that kindles the fire? I've heard of people who sit for a fixed time everyday to write - in rigorous discipline. I understand this strategy for a sport - say cricket. You turn up every day and bowl a few overs to get better at the art. But how do you manage to get yourself to be creative at a certain time everyday, if you don't have content that inspires and motivates you to write? On the other hand, I have been waiting for a year to find a trigger that motivates me enough to write....but could I have just sat down for a while, observed my thoughts and started penning them, to generate a flow? May be the incremental success through discipline would have motivated the next trigger of discipline.  

Let's take these ideas to the next level. The question "Why do I need to write?" still looms large. And I firmly believe the lack of motivation or discipline is a direct consequence of failing to answer this question. There were a couple of my articles around two years ago that were received quite well. And I remember my focus gradually shifting towards trying to write pieces that garnered more appreciation if not the same. Anything less interesting or intriguing would mean a fall in standards. May be I didn't want to write unless I was as good. It was more a fear of failure. The extrinsic response was suppressing the intrinsic satisfaction of lending words to ideas and thoughts. The "Why?" probably had more external connection than internal resonance.

And as such, the external connection sputtered and died. My profession is steeped in logic than creativity (I would stand corrected if convinced otherwise). I failed to realise not all people would read everything I write till I'm worthy of a read.(this worthiness doesn't come if I didn't sit down and write loads of less worthy stuff and get better by the day). Consequently, the triggers too seemed insignificant in their appeal to the external world.

A few months into the lull, I missed writing. Over the years, this was one skill that had stayed with me. By design or destiny, it gave me an identity. No,not with the external world- but to myself. When questioned what I did apart from my course, or my profession, I instinctively said I write. And I lived that too.  And to pen something once in a while gave a sense of satisfaction and achievement. It was this internal reasoning that I missed in the last year or so. It was this simple truth that to write was somehow connected with a purpose greater than external recognition. And I'm glad that the reasoning kicked in, albeit a little late.

I'm completely aware that this little essay doesn't guarantee a return to the fecundity or quality of better times. What I'm earnestly hoping for is incremental discipline and motivation to trigger the next wave of growth, learning and creativity that has been missing for quite a while now!

                                                                                                  -21st January 2018