Welcome to the Why I Do What I Do series. If you missed the introduction or day one (why I run), click to catch up.
See this stack of books?
These are my journals. I've kept a journal since the fourth grade. At one point I threw away the earliest volumes that were written during my middle school years. (Sometimes life is best left undocumented. The sixth, seventh, and eighth grades are some of those times.) The journals that remain cover the past 20 years of my life.
I can't imagine life without writing.
I'm a person who can't always discern how I feel until I write what I'm thinking. When words spill out onto a page -- or this screen -- my thoughts are free to dislodge themselves from my head. They no longer trip over one another, tangling themselves.
Writing brings clarity.
It also brings such pleasure. I taste words, noting their distinct flavors and feels. I chew on good paragraphs. I sop up well-worded sentences. I savor clever phrases. Then I serve them, hoping that my readers will take as much delight consuming them as I took preparing them.
Have you ever kept a journal? All my fellow bloggers, why do you write?