My problem with writing
and celebrating small wins
Quick one! Before you read this, if someone sent this to you, it probably means you aren’t subscribed yet. Do you know you can change that in just one click? Isn’t technology wonderful?
The time is currently 5:40pm. I just wrote this sentence, and I'm aiming to finish this in time to meet the gym by 6. Wishful thinking? Maybe. But try, I must. It's been a long weekend, and for everyone who reached out to ask about my musings, I love you a bunch. I really did try to put out musings; the universe just wasn't having it.
What's the big reason I didn't write all weekend? Well, it was Nigeria. Plain and simple. I remember a tweet about how you can't outwork infrastructural problems, and I learned that firsthand this weekend. It was one thing after the other. Electricity issues, internet issues, heck, even transportation was a clusterfuck. But I survived, and that's all that matters.
However, my weekend wasn't without its highlights. In the most random fashion, I found a kindred spirit –or so I'd like to think, in a friend's friend. Our short conversation left me in awe of how clearly she expressed her thoughts –and sometimes, mine, too. Her words were like water to a parched soul. I can't go into what we said; that's for me to savour. But meeting her was such a special thing for me. It reminded me how unique humans are. How every person is an entire experience. And there's no one else in the universe like another individual.
Author's note: If you're reading this, I'm sending the warmest hug I can. What might've been a short, inconsequential conversation to you has helped me see myself so much clearer. Thank you. You've gained a fan.
Yes, I started today's musing with an entire serving of digress. But I digress again, back to the script.
One thing I've learned from the happiest people I know is remembering to celebrate your milestones. Taking a page from their books, I want to celebrate reaching 20 musings. They have yet to be daily like I hoped, but I've done my best to deliver. And that's worth being grateful for. What better way to celebrate reaching 20 posts than explaining why I hate writing.
It might sound like fluff, but I really do hate writing. Hate is a strong word, but you get the point. Your thoughts always have to land. Every sentence has to serve a purpose. You can't leave things as they exist in your mind. Loosely strung together with your private understanding. Writing forces you to minimize the waffling, clarify your thoughts, and keep them simple enough for the next guy. "Stick to the meat," it stands over your shoulder and watches you pick each word, more excruciating than the last.
Does that sentence make sense? Does that paragraph connect well? How's the flow like?
Have you ever wanted to wonder inconsequentially? Finding tangents and spin-offs in the explorative world in your mind. It's your oyster, from your Spider-Man origin story to inside jokes, even how you won a million-dollar lottery and bought your dream car. There's nothing out of your reach. With writing, you could never.
David McCullough explains it better than I do:
"Writing is thinking. To write well is to think clearly. That's why it's so hard."
There's also the issue of qualifying your words. With math, it's easy to say this formula is more efficient. In chemistry, you can measure the speed of a reaction. With writing.. Who knows? How can you check a writer's mind to judge what words would capture his thoughts exactly how they exist in his universe?
But that's the beauty of it. No one else can do what you do the exact way you do it. No matter how long we ponder their pieces, only Picasso can explain his every brush stroke. Only Shakespeare can explain his commas. Only Wizkid can explain his lyrics. Only the artist has the experiences that give meaning to his art. All we can do is appreciate experiencing it.
All this is to say I hate writing, but I love it, too. Regardless of how much better other writers seem than me, it's a different world, so there's no comparison. It's easy to mistake appreciation for self-depreciation.
'You do XX so well' should not equal 'I could never do XX like that'
'Your XX are so good' should not become 'I wish my XX was like that'
The truth is, you will never write, draw, sing, or speak like them. But in the same vein, they could never do it like you. Everything that makes them special is unique to them. And everything you do comes from your own uniqueness, too.
The time is now 11:19 pm. I did not meet my 6pm target.
If you enjoyed reading this, please remember to subscribe and to share it with your friends.
