Why I Write

I launched this newsletter a few weeks ago because it is time I begin writing on a regular basis and, I hope, develop a regular readership. In truth, I’ve been writing all my life – in personal journals, in professional journals, in newsletters, in client alerts, in seminar materials, and for the last dozen or so years, on personal and professional blogs. Because I am a litigator who frequently writes briefs and other documents intended to persuade, writing has been at the center of my work for clients. Writing, in short, is like breathing to me; if I don’t do it, some important part of me will cease to exist.

But needing to write is not the same as needing to write publicly. Couldn’t the writer’s urge be satisfied through private writings in a diary, or personal letters to friends, or poetry meant for my eyes only? Why the urge to share my musings with larger groups of family, friends, colleagues, acquaintances, and even perfect strangers? What impels me towards public expression of my observations, concerns, wishes, and beliefs? What drives me to speak above an unheard thought or whisper? And what possible purpose is served by doing so?

I am still searching for an answer to those questions, but some partial answers have begun to emerge.

Writing as a Means of Self-Revelation

For some, writing is a way to explore their innermost thoughts and feelings. As they transform their inner musings to words on a page, they arrive at a clearer understanding of themselves and the forces at work within them. In a sense, the writer becomes a reader of their own material and the sometimes surprising ideas it presents.

I learned this concept at an early age. I have always loved to read. When I was young, I liked reading both books and comic books, particularly Marvel comics. I liked the latter so much that I began to subscribe – to the Fantastic Four, Spider Man, the X-Men, and several others. A good day was when the latest issue would arrive in our mailbox, and I could bring it into our house and eagerly devour the writing and the artwork. The imaginative stories, compelling dialogue, and stunning artwork captivated me.

As I entered my high school years, I discovered other types of periodicals aimed at teenage audiences. Music had become an increasingly important part of my life, and I was especially drawn to rock magazines. Rolling Stone, with its perceptive writing (and occasional vulgarities) probably topped the list, but there was also a music magazine at the time called Circus. I believe it was there that I found a short article about writing. It included a quote that has been attributed to E. M. Forster: “How do I know what I think until I see what I say?”.

On its face, that question seems absurd, but it bears witness to something real. When we put our thoughts on paper, or type them onto a computer screen, we learn something about ourselves that we didn’t know before. The very act of writing reveals pieces of who we are, not only to other readers, but also to ourselves. The written word becomes a mirror through which we can examine our character, our values, and our motivations. It is a necessary step towards self-awareness, a virtue in its own right, and one that can also lead to self-improvement. The self-reflective power of writing alone makes the enterprise worthwhile.  

Writing as a Way of Connecting with Others

That the mere act of writing benefits the writer still doesn’t answer the question: why write for an audience? Nor does it explain why I or any of my contemporaries would want to write in this relatively late decade of our lives. What do we hope to accomplish? What are we trying to achieve?

This question has preoccupied my thoughts in recent weeks. For the past year, since the pandemic began, and with the exception of some extended but too-short stays by two of our children, my wife and I have been living alone in what used to be a summer home and now serves as our permanent residence. Although I still am busy with work and other pursuits, I have had a lot of time to think about where I have been and where I am going.

I have been a litigator in four law firms for more than 40 years, had led an excellent bar association, and am nearing the end of my term as Chair of the Board of Trustees of an outstanding liberal arts college. Our children are grown and living elsewhere, have received advanced degrees (with one still in progress), and are well on their way in careers and lives of their own. With so much of my life and accomplishments behind me, I am thinking a lot about what comes next.

As I approach the point in my life when I am supposed to have more leisure time to enjoy the outdoors, to pursue new hobbies, to read the books that continue to pile up on my bookshelves, to travel and explore new restaurants (okay, this one has been on hold for a year and will remain on hold a while longer), and to visit family in far-flung locations (also currently on hold), why would I want to spend another minute in front of my computer writing who-knows-what for who-knows-whom?

The most obvious answer to this question is that writing is a means of connecting with other people. It provides a way of sharing ideas and experiences that matter to me with my readers, whether they are close relatives, long-time friends, business colleagues, fellow volunteers, or simply other persons observing life and trying to figure out what it all means. It is a way of tearing down walls that separate our solitary selves and reaching the hearts and minds of fellow travelers. It is a recognition that we are not alone in this world, and that we are better together than we are alone. It is an act of communion, the proverbial breaking of bread, of hoping to provide some form of sustenance that will energize others on their own life’s journey. To borrow a phrase of Richard Rohr’s that I have quoted before, writing for others moves us from the “I” story to the “We” story. And we need both stories to be fully alive.

Writing to Join the Larger Flow

Yet even those answers don’t satisfy me. I am still struggling with a more pressing question – what possible difference will my writing (or, for that matter, my life) make in the greater scheme of things? After all, there are many writers, speakers, pundits, politicians, clergy, philosophers, poets, storytellers, disc jockeys, reporters, news broadcasters, and talk show hosts who seem to have a lot to say, many of whom will reach a much larger audience than I could ever dream of. I am just one rather ordinary person, and with the wisdom of age, I am more aware than ever of my insignificance in the cosmic stream. Sure, I have had the privilege of occupying a modest bully pulpit now and again, but most of the time I feel like the proverbial tree that falls in the deserted forest – have I even made a sound? Does a single word or sentence that I write make one iota of difference to even the smallest slice of humanity?

After all this ruminating, I have begun to find an answer. It starts with acknowledging that my solitary voice may offer helpful bits of wisdom, comfort, challenge, or encouragement to a few people here and there, which is reason enough to write. But I also must acknowledge that what I have to say won’t make a bit of difference to the nearly eight billion people in the world who will never read my words, hear my voice, or even know that I exist. They will get along just fine without me, and that’s okay.

But we aren’t solitary creatures, we don’t exist in isolation, and we don’t have to be solo artists. Each of us has a voice, and those voices, when combined, can form a chorus of thought, of feeling, even of love that has the potential to change the world. Every writer, in their own small way, can play a part in a larger anthem. It may be harmonious or discordant. It may convey hope or despair. It may evoke joy or sadness. But the more voices that are added, the more powerful, the more significant and, ideally, the more beautiful the song becomes.

And so, I write not because my small attempt at writing matters, but because I want to add my voice to the larger ensemble. I write to join a collective song, no matter how insignificant my individual voice may be on the choral stage. I write to take my place alongside a host of performers hoping to add to the beauty and meaning people experience in this world, perhaps even to take the performance to places where it might not otherwise be heard.

My words may be my own, but they are born from community. My voice may be faint, but it is caught up in a global production. My contribution may be insignificant, but when joined with the contributions of other like-minded thinkers, speakers, and writers, it is imbued with a meaning and purpose that transcends its limitations.

And that is a performance I wouldn’t want to miss.

The Writer’s Choice

There are other reasons I write, reasons that I’m sure are shared by many. Writing is an act of creation, and we all are born with an urge to create. Writing is also a way to enlighten and inspire. Those goals figure significantly in my writing, and perhaps will form the topic of a future post.

For now, though, if the writer’s highest and best purpose is to join a larger chorus of writers, then the writer has to make a choice. The choice is not whether to write. For those inclined to write, the fact of writing is a given. The choice, rather, is what song do you want to sing? What chorus do you want to join? Once you answer those questions, the rest is inhale, exhale, and let the music carry you away.