Why I write

On 5th July 2017, I posted my first blog here. Of course, this was not the first time I sat down to write just for the sake of writing. I have enjoyed writing for at least eight years now, thanks to my teacher of English in high school. He was a wonderful, talented and intelligent teacher any student could ask for. He was knowledgeable and humorous – something you definitely want in a teacher. I remember sitting in his class and listening to him give constructive feedback on our homework and class exercises. Although we would laugh when he called out one of us for some silly mistake we made, he always stooped to our level and instructed us gently and unswervingly. Turns out, that is exactly what I needed to fall in love with writing. So I wrote.

Fast forward to September 2015, I found myself sitting in the school library with a small notebook. I was in a new place and all my bearings seemed to have fallen out of place. So I took a pen and jotted down my feelings –  the thrills of travelling to a new country and the anxiety of moving thousands of miles away from home. Unknowingly, I was carving a tradition that I would cling on for years. The tradition of writing when I am faced with perplexing circumstances. The tradition of writing when I am happy, sad, lonely or under stressful situations. In writing, I enter another world, dimension rather, where my thoughts and feeling flow like water plugging down a waterfall. So I write.

Pandemic days have been like no other. The curfew that is still in place in the Netherlands has been particularly hard on me. It has meant that for most of the weekdays, I barely have a face-to-face conversation with anyone. I work (remotely) during the day and by the time I finish work and make dinner, there is little time left to see a friend because of the curfew. Therefore, my evenings consist of some of the following activities: running (yes, I love running), taking a walk, watching Netflix, reading a book or doing a puzzle. Other evenings simply disappear in thin air. There is one thing though, that when I do, gives me the extra push I need to make it through another day in lockdown. That is writing.

Wring helps me bring to a close a busy day at work. It brings life to moments when I am lonely. It gives me a voice when I am too tired. It is the best way I have found to process my thoughts and sharpen my convictions.

So why do I write? I write because in writing I find a companion who is always ready to listen to my problems, failures, successes, fears, accomplishments and whatnot. I write because it is the place I feel I can express myself best. I write because it frees my thoughts and puts my mind at ease. I write because it helps me think. I write because when I do, I enter another dimension where I can for once forget about anything that doesn’t seem to be going in the right direction, in my life or around me. I write because it is the only way I know to stay sane. The only thing I wish I did is write more. May I write.

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