The Right To Exist

I don't know if you guys read the blog post I made yesterday. I'm realizing that my blogposts are becoming very substantial, but I don't like to cut myself off in the middle as I write them. I see my blogposts as my way of taking notes, broadcasted to the public. They are many for my own purpose, and if they don't entertain others I am fine with that.

But back to my point. Yesterday I made a substantially long blog post (you can see it here). To summarize, I talked about my plans to improve my writing by focusing on technical aspects.

I was a bit alarmed when I saw an emergency comment from Luke saying,

"NO NO NO NO NO!!!!!!

No no!!! NOOOOOO!!!

No, you will NOT "work" on writing. No. You can write all you want, but you WILL NOT WORK on it. You will especially not waste your time and destroy your talent by working on "descriptive writing." NO!!!!

I spend huge stretches of time getting students NOT to write descriptively. NO NO!!! I'm so upset I'm shaking."

I continued on to read his comments, and I realized the utter hypocrisy in my goals and my reasoning for them.

Now, I wasn't surprised because I was critiqued. I'm not someone who has the belief that they must always be right, and I generally assume that if someone gives me guidance it's for a good reason. However, usually when someone offers me advice, I know what to expect. I know what I'm doing wrong, I just need to be told twice.

When Luke informed me on what I was doing wrong, I had no idea, no clue, no apprehension. I didn't think I did anything wrong when I wrote that post. I thought I was analyzing a skill in a logical manner and setting out a plan for which to improve it. I saw nothing wrong.

Obviously, I need to completely re-evaluate my philosophy if I can't notice such major flaws.

I thought about this, and I realized a few things, which I reflected in my reply to him.

"Luke, I am so glad that you said that, because I did not realize that what I was doing. 

In hindsight, I realize that I'm being completely hypocritical. My old writing used to be too excessively descriptive, therefore I will practice on writing more descriptively. Circular reasoning at it's finest, and I didn't even see it in front of my own eyes. 

I think this goes to show my inherent tendencies. I work at things in an artificial way because that's what I think you're supposed to do, and it ends in anguish, every single time. I specifically said I didn't want to do that, and yet that is what I set myself up to do. Habits are difficult to break. I'm addicted to giving myself work so I'm not bored. I'm a workaholic and yet I don't like to do work unless it seems to have a purpose. 

I think this comes from a deep-seated belief that I have, perhaps instilled in the world around me, or perhaps instilled by my parents. I've always believed that you must earn the right to have people care about what you do, or what you have to say. The way you earn that right is to work. Consequentially, I work constantly to earn my right to exist on this planet. "

That may have hit the nail on the head. I work hard all the time. I work to prove my right to exist.

I think that might be my Koan.

Why do I deserve to exist?

Ever since I was a kid I had a need to prove myself. I wasn't creative (as I said, I would often recreate the images on Lego boxes because I thought my own creations wouldn't be good enough), but I was always willful.

I remember when my dad first installed foam tiles in the basement as an alternative to carpeting. I believe I was about seven years old at the time. My basement has a number of poles, and in order to install the tiles on the floor, they would have to be cut so they could fit around these poles. My dad told me this, and I wanted to help him tile the floor.

After tiling a majority of the floor, I reached the pole. I didn't want to sit and wait for him to cut the tile, so I decided to take a butter knife and do it myself. That's right, I was cutting a foam tile with a butter knife. It took me half an hour, but I did it. When my dad came home, he was astonished. "Did your really cut that foam tile with a butter knife." I nodded. "Well, the cut's a bit rough, so I will have to replace it, but I'm impressed that you were actually able to do it." I wasn't hurt that my hard work was thrown in the trash. That compliment meant everything in the world to me.

In my mind, anything can be accomplished with effective planning and free will. If you follow certain steps, happiness is guaranteed. This has led me to doom, so many times. I get caught up in the planning and I forget about the value of the goal. I get caught up in the planning and I don't even know what my intended goal is!

Why do I need to work so hard? Maybe I'm doing everything right already.

I reread the comment I posted in response to Luke. The writing was completely eloquent, and I wasn't even aware while I was writing it. Because it was past 10, I was simply focused on writing a thoughtful response, and not working on the technicalities of wording and phrasing. Still, I phrased all of my sentences well, used a variety of vocabulary words, and wrote a generally coherent piece.

Generally, when I write blogposts, I do not focus on the technicalities of writing. My primary goal is to put my ideas down in a tangible format. Though I used to have a tendency to overuse description in my writing, I have written so many blog posts that I have eliminated such nonsense.

And I thought I should bring it back again. Oh my!

I started getting skeptical. I thought, "if one wants to write better, shouldn't they focus on technical ability? Isn't a writer supposed to have a large vocabulary for which they can describe things?"

But then I realized, I don't even like descriptive writing. I gravitate to non-fiction because it doesn't have all that jargon. I don't feel like navigating the treacherous pages of "good creative writing." Not to mention, much of it comes off to me as shallow. So much creative writing has this mystique, where eloquent word choice is confused with actual sincerity. Sometimes, it makes me sick to my stomach!

That is why I had so much apprehension about writing before. I didn't want to write things that made people sick to their stomachs, but I didn't realize there were other options available. 

There are other options for writing. I'm exhibiting one of those options right now. Writing doesn't mean creative fiction. It can be anything, as long as it is written down in a widely accepted language and comprehensible to the reader.

I'm doing everything right already. That's a very difficult thing for me to admit because I always feel like I must prove myself in order to have the privilege to express myself. But no. I'm expressing myself, right here, right now. 

If I want to improve my writing skills, I simply need to read. All of the words and phrasing will become internalized into my subconscious, and then they will appear in front of me when I write. 

Sometimes, I need to chill out and say that I've done enough.