Writing for Writing’s Sake.

It occurred to me the other day that I’m actually allowed to write for the pure joy of writing. For most of my adult life, I’ve had a lot of anxiety around writing. Publication/making a living out of it has always been in the back of my mind. But what if I just start writing because it’s fun? Would easing up on the self-imposed pressure (or the silent yearning) of being a successful writer actually help me write more freely? Why not just do it because I enjoy it and forget about the stakes?

I went to one of those paint and sip events yesterday at a local winery, and experienced one of those rare moments (at least for me) of synchrony; the world and I were riding the same wavelength. I know it sounds trite, but I felt like I was one with the universe for a few hours of pure bliss painting a crappy picture I’ll probably throw away in a few weeks.

Paint by Numbers
The adult version of paint by numbers.

I’ve experienced moments like this before: Dancing tipsy at a nightclub, watching a great movie, listening to Nina Simone or Edith Piaf after a breakup, and sometimes, even while writing. I want more moments of blissful synchrony in my life; I want to write for the fun of it, like I did when I was a child.

In other words, everything doesn’t need to be a means to an end.

Author: TheDailyHumdrum

I make arrestingly mundane observations and feel the need to share them in a public forum. Mostly, I want to keep track of the small things that make up my life.

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