A Reason to Write

My creative writing teacher told our class that the best writers write what they know. In so doing, she said, "We write to discover truth."

That is why I write: to discover the truth of what I know. Writing is the quickest way for me to understand my feelings. I may be thinking a million things at once--which, trust me, I find a way to do--but once I write them down, my thoughts become clear. In that brief moment between thought and transcription, the moment between pausing and typing, a beautiful thing happens: I discover truth. For me, there is nothing in the world like that moment of discovery; for one fleeting moment, I see the world around with me with just a bit more clarity. And in a world like this, who wouldn't appreciate those moments when life makes a little bit more sense?

Sometimes, unfortunately, life does not make sense. Or at least not the "sense" we hoped for. That is why on a day like today, I choose to write. Because even though I can think of over 7,000 days in my life that have been better than today (which, incidentally, is all of them), I still have this insatiable need to discover truth. It's because I can't stop thinking, "Why did this happen?" that I write. Because in writing I grapple with the truth I know and the sense I want life to make. And while I know that truth will never make the sense I want it to, it's okay. Because at least in writing, I am seeing things a bit more clearly--even if seeing clearly also means seeing what I don't want to.

And so I write. Although this post won't make sense to anyone, I write, because writing enables me to soldier on. Writing enables me to see a problem and plow my way through it. Writing makes my world make sense.

On the good days, on the bad days, I write.