why I write

It started off small, this desire to write. I never meant it to carry on for this long. In fact I'm amazed nearly all the time that it has.

It began on a whim with a tale of wild flowers in August 2011 and for the last three years I have bungled along, morphing, crafting and creating this place of mine through trial and error (a lot of errors!) to be what it is today. I've experimented with style and substance, taken the most incredible amount of pictures, deleted the most stupid amount of crappy posts, met the loveliest people and basically been on a wild adventure and enjoyed every minute of it.

Writing has turned into a pleasure. I can't quite believe that it has but there you have it, I enjoy it, it creates space inside me, space to explore how I think, feel and experience the world. The pleasure has grown exponentially since I started keeping a journal (I've always wanted to use the word exponentially in a blog post!), and also since I read Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way, a magical book, life-changing for me, about rediscovering or just plain discovering your creative self.

In it Julia says this which I love:

"The process of identifying a self inevitably involves loss as well as gain. We discover our boundaries, and those boundaries by definition separate us from our fellows. As we clarify our perceptions, we lose our misconceptions. As we eliminate ambiguity, we lose illusion as well. We arrive at clarity, and clarity creates change."

Ah, clarity and change my two favourite c-words apart from cake.

Since getting into the habit of writing every day, everything about the way I think and behave has changed. The clarity of finally understanding things about yourself that have been right in front of your eyes and making you miserable is priceless. Writing gently removes layer after layer of accumulated social conditioning and after a while you start to recognise small glimmers of your authentic self.

These tiny cracks at first feel like a kind of madness because you abandon long held beliefs, duties, desires. You wonder if it's a kind of crisis (mid-life or otherwise) because suddenly you don't want to wear make up every day or high heels, you dig out old music, start reading poetry, prioritise people who make you feel joyful, find yourself dancing, running, meditating, making time for yourself and you start to feel alive.

All this and more is why I write, why I want to write and why I will continue to write, doors have been opened that can never be shut, it has become a way of life, become my life, become me.

I was asked to write this post by Cat from That Bettie Thing, it was supposed to be part of the summer long blog-along type thing that I can never usually be arsed with but Cat asked me so nicely and I liked the idea for a post so thank you Cat and sorry for getting in there with this post before you but I do believe you are moving house right now so you can be excused.