A fellow blogger’s post I read recently titled Where’s This Train Headed got me thinking a little deeper about some of the questions the author imposed upon my mind by saying…
“When I sit and look at it, I have to wonder why. Why do I do this? Why do you do this? What do you think? What do you get outta this? Those of you like myself, why do you invite strangers into your corner of the world?”
Why did I invite perfect strangers into my corner of the world?
The question plagued me as I went about my day. Honestly, I had no clue why.
I started a post this morning explaining that I really had nothing to post about, yet I still felt a need to write. I explained it away with the simple fact that I needed something to do while I drank my morning coffee. I went on to presume I could converse with my family or watch the morning news while I had my coffee too, yet there I was, still writing.
Maybe that was simply it, to fulfill our need to write. Regardless of the fact that the whole world could potentially peek into our corner of the world, we still sit there pushing the posts out. We need to, because that’s just who we are.
We were always these people. Even before the internet took over the world and blogging became a thing.
We were the kids with the composition notebooks scribbling away every fleeting thought that crossed our minds. The kids that sat in class secretly not minding those teachers that “forced” us to keep a journal through the year. The ones that aced our creative writing classes without even trying. The ones that could never in a million years express out loud what we could with our pens. We were the writers.
Like nearly everything else in the world, our composition notebooks simply got a technological upgrade.
Sure, composition notebooks of the past still existed, even if they were ten times the price of when we were kids. Some of us even still have them littering our bookshelves, desks, and bedside tables. (I think I have at least one in each of these locations.) Yet the pull of the blogosphere still frequently entangled us within it’s grasp. Why?
I think, as the author of the blog that started this whole search for our true blogging purpose concluded, that the why is as different for each individual as their posts are. Even as different for the same individual for each separate post.
Sometimes we need feedback. Sometimes, we need encouragement. Someone to truly relate to our stories. Sometimes we simply write to discover how we really feel. Or even to put a situation into proper perspective.
Our whys are endlessly varied and ever changing. To dig deep enough to truly understand our own personal why is a quest that few dare to partake in. Those that do, may never even find the answer. Regardless, we still write. We need to write. Because, that’s just who we are.