Writing

When I was young, I started to fall in love with writing. Having spent most of my life battling my dyslexia, it had always been difficult for me to express myself through the written word. I knew I had things to say, but I wasn’t able to convey them the way I would have preferred. The English language had been enigma to me, but I have a thirst to use it to explore the world through words. So I wrote, even though I knew it wasn’t correct, and that it was likely flawed. I wrote to get the thoughts out of my head and onto the page. Some of these I shared with others, while most of them I kept to myself, tucked away where no one could find them, a form of introspection and, in a way, journaling. 

Once in college, I had no choice but to learn to write more constructively, but it was incredibly difficult for me to do so. As an English major, I struggled heartily, writing essay after essay, learning tips to guide me through the process. This was a time before comprehensive spell check or formatting recommendations. We, of course, had programs like Word, but they didn’t have the kind of support needed for someone like me. There was only so much that could be fixed through these programs, and let me be honest, there were many times when my fundamental understanding of spelling and sentence structure fell widely short. There was no way the software at the time would have been able to catch the monumental amount of errors I produced in my work. So I did what I could, learning ways to circumvent my disability, I implemented what I could learn, and pressed on as I progressed throughout my time in college. With each essay, I got a little better at writing, learning a little more, growing my knowledge of sentence structures and grammar. Was it perfect? Far from it. But it was my voice, and that’s what mattered.

As I learned more about writing, I began to fall more in love with this craft. While my spelling hadn’t improved, I gained a greater understanding of words, how to use them, inserting things that interested me, and toying with pacing. Once out of college, I found my way into the business world, and while this kind of writing can often be considered mundane, to be honest, daily emails helped me to practice. It provided me with an opportunity to write every day and explore a more meaningful approach to communicating with others. I noticed that while I didn’t mind talking over the phone or in person, when I was able to collect my thoughts through an email, it felt far more intentional. I was able to express myself in a more deliberate way. This way of communicating felt more meaningful, and it allowed me to organize my brain, to work through and process how I truly felt about things. Of course, these were simple emails, mainly repeating or responding to similar questions, but like the Zen proverb goes, “Before Enlightenment chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment chop wood, carry water.” It wasn’t the material for me, it was the act of writing that appealed to me. 

Looking back on this journey, and still very much far from perfect, it’s a reminder that sometimes you should press on if you love something, even if you lack the tools or the way, press on because you want to, because it makes sense in some fundamental way, fueling you, pushing you forward. For me, I knew I wanted to write, even if it was just an email, that was enough for me. Don’t get in your own way. Allow those passions to foster and grow. Build on them anyway you can.