I write. It has been a personal passion for a majority of my years; along with cooking, reading, and listening to music.

I am an avid reader and collector of music. I do not possess extraordinary talent in cooking or writing, though occasionally circumstances gel to hint at a potential that characterizes my passion. I choose music, books, and recipes eclectically, which in turn influence thought processes and the resulting actions/behaviors.

This week I have been internally debating the merits of scaling back on the time and energy spent writing in order to expand my repertoire in the other less strenuous passions. (For example, it has been 9 years since I have made a batch of beer.) I believe I have already talked myself down from this ledge. Now I am examining why I write ... why I am compelled to write.

I obviously do not write for fame or fortune; and I realize that if even a small amount of either (perhaps in the form of 'local notoriety' or 'making a living') found me, it would change the nature of my thoughts and behaviors, thus impacting and/or corrupting the content of my written thoughts. So as I have said before, obscurity has its advantages. But then one (including myself) may ask, why write in a public forum if not to seek some attention? I address this more in-depth in the aforementioned 'obscurity' post (Silent Happiness) but the best answer I have is that this vehicle is an attempt to balance my ego-driven humanity with my efforts to transcend.

This same dynamic (ego to transcendence) is at play in my desire to leave something of tangible importance for my children. I have previously danced with and around this idea in the posts Happiness Left Behind and Daily Happiness. I identified one's legacy as a critical aspect of exoteric goodness, and broke it down into the simple concept that one should live each day as a microcosm of a Life well-lived. This daily discipline and effort put into the organization and analysis of my thoughts, and their transfer to a written format, is my contributory hope that I am practicing exoteric goodness and leaving something of myself behind.

I also write for the sake of my sanity; not in a 'postal' sense of the word, but more to cultivate a disciplined focus, that in turn leads to learning, growth, and an acknowledgment of reality. I believe one needs (at least) occasional reassurance that we have a grip on reality. There are times when my thoughts are jumbled, confused, and uncertain. By translating them into written form I am able to reassure myself that my grip on reality (though slippery) remains. I believe that anyone who believes they have a firm grip on reality is actually holding on (sometimes for dear life) to an illusion. By writing, I am able to recognize both the elusive fluidity and the solid necessity of reality. And in this sense, it keeps me sane.

And finally, there is an inner transcendence that flows in direct proportion to what is lost in translation from my thoughts to my writing; (the less that is lost, the greater the transcendence). There is always some loss; and if my thoughts take a verbal detour and never make it to the page, there is a much greater loss. The written word offers clarity, permanence, and value that the spoken word will never match; so until I am able to consistently (on a daily basis) share a trascendent consciousness with everyone I would like, I will continue to write.