Why I Write

I write because I can’t not write. I carry a notebook (portable journal) with me everywhere I go in case I need to record something I see, a comment I hear, or a thought I want to revisit. My many years of this practice have yielded notebooks that are a chronicle of the places I have been and the people I have met as well as a spring from which to dip draughts for bigger pieces of writing. Sometimes I think I will not write it down — just remember it — but even as my brain concentrates on a pneumonic device for remembering, my hand is defying and pulling out the pen and paper.

The portable journal is just the beginning. Here are other reasons I write:

Make Lists

In my advancing years, I tend to forget where I am in different endeavors. Lists of what I want to say, what I think, what I need from the grocery store keep me on track. Sometimes the lists themselves become the story — what is important, what is not. Sometimes the lists merge and a to do list includes bread and milk from the store or vice versa. I have begun to keep lists in my phone and sometimes a hurried note lands in the wrong category. In the end, it doesn’t really matter — all the items are who I am.

Writing about it helps me sort out what is reasonable or not reasonable in my thinking. The writing helps me create logic out of the exuberant chaos with which I begin. A quick write to get it out later becomes paragraphs minus the language blips and rants of the original. Sometimes there is an idea that needs pursuing with more research and writing. Sometimes it remains the rant it was and it just stays where it is.

Remember happenings

My journal helps me recall events: when my dog came to live with me and my initial resistance, when my pacemaker was installed and the ensuing issues as I became accustomed to running on a battery, special events with friends and grandchildren, beautiful and not beautiful days full of sunrises and sunsets, clouds and storms, and the sheer joy of being alive through all of them.

For instance, shortly after my husband died I returned to a restaurant we used to frequent. I wrote in my portable journal, “At Lily’s. Max loved this place even after he got too sick to go. It was just a little later in the day than now when we made our last visit to celebrate Betsy’s birthday. It was a warm fall day and we sat on the patio because the patio chars had arms that facilitated pushing up to stand and the chairs inside did not. After that day, we settled for takeout — the restaurant’s Margarita pizza, which became one of the few things he could taste and enjoy as the cancer consumed his body.

Explore Ideas

I write to have conversations with myself — good ones and bad ones. I write through issues, ideas, and conflicts. This writing includes the writing of others as I explore their ideas and converse with them on my page — agreeing, disagreeing, just commenting on what they say. Somehow, my own recall and writing make my reading more vibrant and I am able to have roundtable discussions with other writers on my pages, which leads me to my own conclusions.

Make My Voice Heard

From my private writing I choose relative paragraphs to begin or enhance in my public writing — to say what I want to say about an issue or an idea. My private voice sometimes has profanity, sometimes rants, sometimes rambles — it is clearly not ready for prime time. But it is the seed from which the final article or speech will spring. It is my voice straining to be heard in the cacophony of opinions that scream from many sources.