Writing is neither an art nor a skill; it’s a necessity.
Many people today write—well, not exactly in the strictest sense of the word. They “write” for the sake of messaging each other on the phone, adding a line or two to social media posts, doing school or university assignments, and, of course, sending emails. These tasks are more like obligations, where you’re pressured to write for a specific outcome.
Then there are the professional writers: authors, journalists, copywriters, academicians, screenwriters, etc. They can produce immense amounts of content to create products such as books, newspapers, advertisements, journals, academic papers, and movies.
In the good old days (before the internet, TV, and even the moon landing), writing was something different. It was almost akin to meditation or a daily vacation. From what I understand, people used to schedule their writing sessions as part of their lives—1 hour, 2 hours, and a few hours on the weekends. They wrote detailed personal diaries, pages of romantic (and sad) poems, intoxicating love letters (sometimes written in blood!), and bold letters of criticism to their political leaders. Many maintained pen pals around the world whom they regularly corresponded with. Writing was serious and demanding work that everyone undertook. It was a part of life for kids, students, and adults—from early in their lives to almost the very end.
Dedicated reading and writing are important activities. Between the two, writing holds a higher position. When you read, you delve into the mind of the author. When you write, you get lost within yourself, making discoveries. You’re also letting go. It’s like having a conversation with someone, in this case, the paper. There’s no verbal noise, only the clicking of your keyboard or, if you’re a traditionalist, the smooth, deliberate movement of your pen on paper.
So, every day, just write.
About anything. Don’t judge the topic. Seriously, anything works—write about your experience waking up today, the empty soap bottle, the grumpy bus driver, the cold train station, the smelly train carriage, the sun behind the clouds, or the keys you forgot at home.
Write to me in the comments and let me know how it’s going.
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