Why write?
I have sat down at this computer, or the ones that preceded it, and have written over 1,650 blog posts over the years. Why?
It's a great question, one that deserves consideration, and ultimately, an answer.
I think that somewhere along the way - probably when Dylan went through his first surgery adventure - that writing was a way of sorting out the world and what I was feeling about it. That was almost 10 years ago now and writing continues to help me wrap my brain about a lot of things: art, family, struggle, loss, joy, pain, and even a little bit of confusion.
Why make it public?
That's an even better question. My first writings were done as "Notes" on my personal Facebook page, before I started the Middle Age Bulge blog. Something about getting responses from people I only knew a little - or not at all in some cases - was empowering. I can't explain it. Then, when I decided to blog about my weight loss and healthy eating journey, I discovered that public accountability really worked for me. In other words, a very private diary or journal wasn't going to cut it.
Fast forward to right now and I must admit that I don't write as much as I once did. I find that my creative energy is getting consumed by the work happening at work and out in the studio on a daily basis. I'm also no longer on a mission to write x-number of posts in a given month or year. Instead, I write when I feel called to do so, and that's it.
You may wonder if anyone reads these things, besides you. There are a few. A loyal group of 50 to 100 people read the Middle Age Bulge blog on a regular basis. The number of readers jumps significantly when the subject matter is particularly timely or relevant. For instance, the post about the passing of former Councillor Dave Kirschner was one of the most read posts that I have written. He was a man who touched a lot of hearts. An even greater number of readers dropped in when I wrote about the death of Dr. K.P. Wong.
Back to my original question. Why write? Why breathe? The answer to both questions would be strikingly similar. Because I have to. Life without either would be no life at all.
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