This is what writing does for me. It lets me just say it. Whatever’s clawing at me from the insides, fighting to get out. Writing allows me to expel it from my system and put it in a neutral place — on the page.
When it’s out there, it’s out there. Floating in space. A thing all of its own. An entity that wasn’t there before.
Maybe you’ll see it and work it into your reality. Maybe it’ll offend you. Maybe it’ll inspire you. Or maybe you’ll never see it.
Whatever happens to it after I give birth to it isn’t up to me. What matters is that I’ve done the work. I’ve carefully curated, refined, and crafted a cluster of thought into one piece and put it out there.
I’ll have said something that I may not have said if this medium wasn’t available to me. I’ll have followed a thought that I may never have followed.
I can’t think of many practices better than this.