Christian Clifton writes to better himself and hopefully the world around him.
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Why do I write? I have two answers to this simple question that might seem odd to some and perfectly normal to others all depending on whether you (A) consider yourself a writer and (B) have any desire to see the world changed by your life.
Reason #1: I need to
I don’t always write because I want to, there are plenty of times when I don’t, but the fact of the matter is that I NEED to write. I have a unquenchable thirst for putting thoughts down in words that cannot be quenched, it is a strange and yet delightful affliction that leads to some euphoric highs and incredibly sobering lows. That sentiment might have left some of you scratching your heads and others nodding in agreement so allow me to explain why writing has become a necessity in my life.
For a select few that are bitten by the writing bug they tend to experience something that might be more akin to insanity than anything else. Instead of thoughts that flow naturally and in a single file the ideas come as a barrage of voices all trying to be heard. That might sound like I hear voices, and in some ways I do, but there is a way to manage the clamor of the masses; writing.
It (writing) has forced me to see myself in ways that I never wanted to but always needed to, and is slowly making me a better man for it.
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My mind sometimes feels as if it is about to burst from the buildup of ideas, turns of phrase, and narratives that are incessantly forming along my neural links. The only release for these is via my mouth or my hands and it is usually easier for my hands to find the keys than it is for my voice to find a listening ear, plus writing saves the ideas for later in case I forget. Writing is my small semblance of sanity amongst a world that acts as my muse where the next “great idea” is just a blink away.
I don’t want to sound like some nearly diagnosable man behind a keyboard, but someone did say once that there is a fine line between madness and genius. Suffice it to say that my imagination compels me to write; not because of quality but mostly because of quantity. I have plenty of unfinished ideas in notebooks and folders on my desktop that cleared up my mind to work on the ideas that have more value.
Writing is also therapeutic for me emotionally. It provides a safe place for my inner demons to play and be defeated. I am not the healthiest human in the emotional sense; in fact I am made physically uncomfortable at the thought of exposing my inner thoughts to someone, but the blank page is welcoming and fills much more easily than the silence between two stares. Writing has given me the ability to share parts of me with others in ways that were almost impossible before. It has helped my friendships, family, and even my marriage grow stronger by forcing me to look at and work on myself.
By getting my thoughts onto paper it is easier to sort through the junk of my past, my thoughts on the present, and my fears for the future. It has forced me to see myself in ways that I never wanted to but always needed to, and is slowly making me a better man for it. My computer plays the part of therapist; taking in everything my mind can toss out and showing it back to me exactly as it is. The screen bares my soul back to me without any spin and forces me to face myself with nothing to hide behind. There are difficult encounters but each one brings me closer to being the whole man I really want to be.
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The introspection can be scary but it is very good for me and those around me. It also tends to have some unexpected benefits to those I have never met, which brings me to my second reason for writing.
Reason#2: The world needs me (and you) to
While my mind might compel me to write for myself my heart that urges me to write for others. I think back to all the times I sat with my eyes welling up at the words of another who was dealing with something I knew too well and all the good that it did for my mind and soul. It is those moments of comfort that came from strangers which emboldened me to share my life story in the hopes that someone might just need to hear what I have to say.
There is no telling just how much good my story and writing, or you story and writing, will do until it is shared.
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I haven’t lived the perfect life, both because of my own actions and the actions of others that have affected me. There have been mole hills and mountains for me to overcome and in the meantime I have gained a little bit of knowledge that could be of use to someone I have never met. Sharing my experiences can, and hopefully will, help someone else; whether that is through revelations I have or just letting them know that they are not alone in their pain. Anything written and shared with the world will be read, and it just might be read by the very person who needs it most.
Along the way my writing has done good for the lives of others, this is not a statement to bolster myself but rather to encourage others. There is something special about getting word of something you’ve said impacting the life of someone else. It reaches past the ego and touches the soul directly in the way that only another soul can, nourishing it with the warmth that is connection to a fellow human.
There is a tremendous power that comes in sharing our hearts and minds; power that can do everything from saving a single life to founding civilization itself. There is no telling just how much good my writing, or you writing, will do until it is shared. So get out there and spread even a fraction of yourself and see what pops up, you never know how far your story will go.
–Image credit: Denise Krebs/Flickr
Hi Christian, I found your (meaningful) post because my friend, Monna, shared it. I, too, feel the need to write because of voices and self analysis, as well as wanting to lift others up. What a wonderful world of words we live in. Thank you for expressing your writer’s thoughts so well.