Why Do I Write?

Why do I write?

I often get asked this question.

Oh, no! Not by other people. I am no famous writer.

I get asked this question by myself. 

By a part of myself, to be precise.

Do you have parts to yourself?

Parts that question you, your dreams, your capabilities?

Parts that tell you what you can’t do and why?

And then, the parts that have the answers?

I have so many parts to myself that I often lose count.

Take this one, for example.

The part of me that’s forever critical.

It is never satisfied, no matter what I do.

“You’re not good enough. You never will be.” It tells me.

And I want to curl up in my bed and cry all day long.

“That’s nonsense!” Retorts another part.

This one is wiser, kinder, gentler.

It knows that I am human and forgives me my mistakes.

“You are capable of so much!” It says.

And I find hope again.

There’s a part of me that worries too much.

“What if?” is its favorite question.

“What if you fail? What if your dreams don’t come true?”

It thinks it must prepare me for the worst.

It is afraid of being hurt - like it has been in the past.

Even as I write this, a cynic in me is raising its voice.

“Wait a minute, wasn’t this supposed to be about why you write?

What are you doing, rambling on about nothing of value?”

I am dumbfounded. It is right. What am I doing?

My heart sinks a little.

Another part comes up to my rescue, however.

“Sometimes, you write because there is nothing else you can do.

It doesn’t matter what, it doesn’t matter whether it is any good.

What matters is that your heart’s content come rolling out.

As words, or as tears, or as both. Like they are doing now.”

Everyday, hundreds of times, I watch these parts fight with each other.

They are all me, I know. Or may be none of them is me.

May be I am more than all of them combined.

I know I have the power to choose which part to listen to.

But sometimes, it is really, really hard.

May be that’s why I write. Sometimes, at least.

The process of writing has the power to heal.

It gives a place for these voices to say all that they want to say.

Until they are tired and ready to let go.

After which I feel free to do what needs to be done.

The Writer in Me: Revived

“Yashi! Will you be my client?” The coach asked me.

It took me a moment to process this request. Me??

I was attending a coach training program in San Rafael, California, along with 25 other participants. At the beginning of our training, all of us had committed to being a client for demonstration purposes whenever called upon to do so. I didn't know it then, but had quickly learned that being coached requires courage. And, being coached in front of a bunch of people requires much more courage. In the past few days, I had seen several other participants get coached and bare their hearts and souls in front of other trainees. I had sat in the audience, admiring their courage and vulnerability. And being the delusional optimist that I am, I had somehow assumed that I would never have to sit in front of the class getting coached. Clearly, I had been wrong.

I agreed, of course, and walked up to the front of the room. The coach knew I had a topic in mind because she had asked all of us to come up with a “meaty” topic - something we really wanted but were struggling to achieve.

The coach and I settled down at the front of the room, 25 pairs of eyes staring at us, waiting to see what was in store.

“So, what is the topic that you have in mind?” My coach began.

“Well, the topic is that of writing. I have always loved writing and really enjoy it, but, for the past two years, I have been struggling with creating a consistent writing routine.”

If you are a regular reader of my blog - you know exactly what I was talking about. Again and again, in the past couple of years, I have set goals to write regularly, made promises to post on my blog consistently, and have failed invariably. All this has been extremely frustrating for two reasons: first, as some of you would know, I hate breaking promises. And second - my intense desire to write combined with my acute inability to do so has kept me in a state of perennial inner conflict. If I really wanted to write so much, why was it so difficult for me to do so? I wanted to solve this issue once and for all - to either decide that I don’t want to write as much as I say I do or to act in a way that was consistent with my words. I really did need coaching with this topic.

My coach began asking me questions about what made writing so important to me, what was it that I wanted to write about, how did it align with my purpose in life, what my ideal writing life would look like, and what was it that I needed to do to get to where I wanted to be. For those of you who don’t know much about coaching, this is how the process works. By asking powerful questions, my coach was compelling me to think about my why, about the cost of me not taking any action, and about the pointlessness of the obstacles I had unwittingly placed in my own path.

Ten minutes later, I heard myself committing to write an article of 1000 words on the same day, and to share it with my coach the very next morning. This was over and above the other commitments I had for the evening (which were a lot). One of the participants later told me she would totally support me if I decided to feel “unwell” in the evening. Another one shared that she almost yelled out a resounding “no” on my behalf. Even for me, under usual circumstances, this commitment would have seemed ridiculous. I, who needs a specific kind of time, space, and state of mind to really get into the zone of writing, churning out 1000 words just before bed when I was half-asleep? How on earth was that going to happen?

But, you know what, I did it. As tired and exhausted as I was, I still wrote the first draft of that article before I went to sleep that night. And, it felt fantastic.

I didn’t share that draft with the coach, though. The next morning, I told her I had written the first terrible draft, but that I would edit it and send her the revised version. I also promised my batch of 25 that I would share the final article with them. And I am going to do it. Not just that, several weeks have passed since then and I have written something or the other every single day. I didn’t write so consistently even when I was participating in NaNoWriMo - a challenge that required me to write 50,000 words in a month.

So, what happened? What exactly shifted in that ten minute coaching session that enabled me to bring about a behavior change so quickly? Well, three things, to be precise:

1. First of all, I broke some myths about my writing process. Unlike what I had always believed, I don’t necessarily need a particular kind of time, space, and state of mind to get into the zone of writing. I wrote 1000 words in 20 minutes that day, even in a half-asleep state - and even though the first draft was really bad, it had enough content in it to become meaningful and coherent upon revision. 

2. Secondly, the coaching session helped me break down a vague goal - building a regular writing routine - into a specific one: to just show up and write everyday - for 30 minutes. That’s all. No setting the scene, no creating a space, no having a specific topic in mind. Just showing up and rambling on for 30 minutes. It also helped to have an accountability partner - someone who was counting on me to fulfill my commitment.

3. Finally, and I think most importantly, this exercise helped me gain clarity about why is it that I want to write. I realized that I want to use writing as a tool to help others and live a more meaningful life. To be clear, this was a major realization for me that happened over a period of several days and not just in that ten minute coaching session, but the session did bring everything together for me.

I have been thinking quite a bit about the topic of writing since the day I was coached almost six weeks ago. There are so many other lessons I have learned about myself and my writing process that this topic requires a post of its own. However, I want to conclude this post by sharing my current destination on my journey as a writer. Even though I didn’t post much on my blog, I have written more in the past year than ever before in my life, thanks to a ton of academic writing required for the MAPP program. I have also received encouraging feedback from my instructors and classmates, which has enhanced my confidence in my writing abilities. Finally, the coaching session described above has been instrumental in connecting the dots for me. Today, more than ever before, I feel that I am on the verge of finding my voice. The writer in me seems to have been revived with a new sense of gratitude, hope, and purpose.

2015: The Year That Was

Even though the season of yearly reviews has come and gone, and I am more than three weeks late in posting this, I still want to write about how 2015 was for me, particularly because it was a very special year.

“Plans are useless, but planning is indispensable.”

- Dwight D. Eisenhower

Never before in my life has this statement held as true as it does for the year 2015. I began the year with very specific goals and plans about what I wanted to do - many of them I didn’t end up successfully executing. However, the process enabled me to achieve things I didn’t even have on my list - things I wouldn’t have imagined possible at the beginning of the year. The year 2015, without doubt, was one of the BEST years of my life.

What I Had Planned: To lose 13 pounds through regular exercise that was also fun.

What I Actually Did: Trained for and ran my first half-marathon. It was fun at times, but very difficult at others. Even though I lost only about 6 pounds this year, I am fitter and healthier than ever before.

What I Learned: That sometimes, the thing that is holding you back, is all in your head.

What I Had Planned: To start making a living from my passion (which I initially thought was writing)

What I Actually Did: Realized that I was actually passionate about helping people become happier (and writing was just a means to do that), came across the field of positive psychology, learned about the MAPP program a week before its application deadline, applied and got through, and began one of the most meaningful (and fun!) periods of my life. Didn’t make any money - ended up paying more for education, but boy, is it worth it!

What I Learned: To trust the process - one of the key themes in the MAPP program.

What I Had Planned: To write and post regularly on this blog.

What I Actually Did: Ahem. This has been my most embarrassing failure in 2015. After repeated promises of writing and posting regularly, I consistently failed to meet my targets. However, I did an enormous amount of academic writing this year - which has been helpful. But, that does not take away from the fact that I didn’t write as much as I would have liked to - and I hope to do better on this front in 2016.

What I Learned: That it takes immense discipline to write on a regular basis, and that I have a long way to go in this regard.