Writing Creates A Playground for Self-Exploration

Writing is growing on me.

In me, branching out into an unknown and untouchable connection within myself and the world around me.

There’s something in the way that I can construct a sentence and erase it with no feeling. No attachment. As if these words are not my own.

But then there are the times where I stumble into myself. Unknowingly uncovering the deepest parts of my existence. Breaking down into words, I become language. Difficult to erase, but not always easily understood. Sometimes unfitting within the midst of phrases, I don’t belong. I strip my words, tear them from the page and smear them onto a new one that I’ll save for later. Hoping to find myself at the core of a future writing which I may someday understand. But perhaps I will never touch these words again.

At times, I judge the words pervasively. Critiquing them as if they weren’t my own. As if they are my own. Others, I write as they enter my awareness with no attachment or judgment of them. They are as they are. Just words.

Words captured in time. Risen out of careless or careful thought.

The duality of clinging and surrendering words coaxes me into simple acceptance.

Being. Allowing the words to exist or not exist as they so choose. Releasing the tension of believing that I have control over this.

The non-linearity of my writing is evolutionarily groomed for the world to view my untamed mind. An internal process of self-reflection, an endless and ongoing cycle of understanding. Occasionally, I stumble into an intense immersion of the vocabulary and underlying fabric of the writing’s purpose. An incredible feeling, completely engulfed in the present moment of my mind.

In other moments of writing, the words are forced with difficulty. They struggle to exist outside of my head, smeared painfully onto the paper. Writing is real. The phrasing doesn’t always flow beautifully and exhibit the entirety of its meaning. But it’s here, existing from energy cultivated in this moment for you, for some purpose. Presently vulnerable for the critics, and for those that can find themselves lost within the words.

Writing creates a playground for self-exploration. To build and deconstruct thoughts and feelings, to learn the functionality of your being. We can gain clarity, capturing ruminating thoughts and forcing them or allowing them to fall onto a page for careful understanding.

Thoughts existing in the physical presence. Tangible.

We can spend time bending and breaking their meanings.
Tearing apart the rationality, or lack thereof.
Yet, they still are impermanent.

I can remove, replace, reiterate, rewrite.

The thoughts can become entirely new concepts. The old now foreign to me.

A constant state of flux.

I urge you to create a space of ten minutes today to write. To explore your mind in a vast playground of uncertainty, enjoyment, and release. Writing can provoke a multitude of emotions, and within the backbone of it lies meaning.

Reflect today,

And if you so choose, share it with us here.

You may also like to read:  

Letting Go of Stability, I Found Clarity

“Letting go of stability, I found clarity about trusting the non-linearity of life. That these thoughts, this world, ourselves, are impermanent.”