This part in particular stuck with me: "writing is meant to process living. We write to understand ourselves; if we fail to live in the first place, there’s nothing to understand. It’s like running the washing machine without any clothes....But if I subtract the life part, the whole thing breaks down."
I've been sitting in as of late is what brings me energy now? By default, that's normally writing, but it's not always writing. To have a blast in other ways and then process that life in a way that gives me more life (and oscillating between those two) might be the best way for me to enjoy each day. Creative energy moves around and is dynamic. Sometimes, that energy can move to something else for awhile, and I can always follow it. It always comes back, and we can come back to it.
Strongly relate with this one too: "I find myself both ecstatic and pissed off. Ecstatic because I have the privilege of knowing precisely what lights me up; pissed off because I sat on this knowledge for so long." I've chosen to see that sitting on it for too long was in a way just charging me up to become who I am now. If I failed to act it would be a tragedy, but I haven't failed to act - I've just moved slower than I thought. And that's ok. I'm not very fast, that's all.
I've been on a bit of a hiatus myself of late (both here and on X (still (maybe always?) weird to say 'X' lol)), this is a great reminder to welcome myself back
I really like this piece and it hit me in the side of the head like a ton of bricks. This is coming from a closeted writer who has used my newsletter to become a writer writer, and the quote about “writer by heart” is exactly how I feel.
Love this shit keep doing it, I’m a lil newsletter subscriber guy sitting here getting inspired by your words
I was reading and was like, "wait a minute, I know that guy!" Thanks for the shoutout homie. And I feel this post - I think I wrote a similar post actually. Writing takes effort, even when you love it, even when you're called to write. Stumbling is guaranteed, and all we can do is get back in the saddle.
“ One of life’s greatest tragedies may be to have the privilege of knowing who you are and to ignore or hedge against it. To not truly give yourself over to it. To reach the end of the road and be left with nothing but the haunting feeling that you had one chance at a divine opportunity, and you held back.” I would love to discuss this in person. Glad to have found your blog.
Funny how writing —when you're a writer, when you think you're a writer, when you think you think you're becoming a writer — becomes the most natural way to relate to the world. But, at the end of the day, you still have to be "in" the world to relate to it. And you can be in the world, a part of the world (or, apart from it, for that matter), without having to write about it. Those experiences just build, accumulate, percolate — until, at some point the washing machine is full and the only thing left to do is start it. It often almost feels like the machine starts itself.
(Kind of like, in archery, the goal is to release your arrow on the target without thinking about releasing the arrow. There's a koan for you.)
I wrote a few weeks ago how I've struggled to be earnest with myself on who I am — how I can be both a writer (a poet, an essayist, an existential rambler) and an entrepreneur (as douchey as that may sound). How it's easier to keep that emotional distance from your multitudes — and we all contain multitudes — by relegating the deep, meaty, intimate parts of your writing to the footnotes of your newsletter. But, as they say, the only way out is through, and like you said, you only start losing when you stop playing.
(For what it's worth, that essay is called "On Never Settling" and after it we make lobster risotto. Again: we contain multitudes.)
So long-winded way of saying thanks for writing and articulating some of the same ideas I've been thinking about (writing about? Is there a difference?). Glad you're back in it, and look forward to seeing where you end up!
Holy shit Lou. This was all so beautifully said. You're right, it does often feel like the machine starts itself - like it has to.
You're also spot on in that it's easier to keep an emotional distance from your multitudes. Given that you've both developed that level of self-awareness and that there exists deep, meaty, intimate writing that has made it even to the footnotes of your work, I'd say you are working more earnestly than most to close that distance. And that's all we can really do, right? To progressively work toward becoming a hair more integrated, or cohesive, or authentic, or whatever we want to call it. The only way out is through, indeed.
Thank you for reading, for the thoughtful note, and for acknowledging your own experiences with all this.
Hey Alex, this piece soothed my soul! Such a good reminder it's ok to have a healthy amount of writing in virtual purgatory and that some pieces take time more than others to actually publish! (I've got one I've been working on since May but has been super ceded by others up til now.)
Also resonated with the mini existential crisis over answering the "WhAT do yOu AcTuALly dO?" question. Agree that it's a silly question (although I understand why we say it). It gave me a good giggle. Looking forward to the next piece that gets released from virtual purgatory.
Love this Alex and happy to see you back!
This part in particular stuck with me: "writing is meant to process living. We write to understand ourselves; if we fail to live in the first place, there’s nothing to understand. It’s like running the washing machine without any clothes....But if I subtract the life part, the whole thing breaks down."
I've been sitting in as of late is what brings me energy now? By default, that's normally writing, but it's not always writing. To have a blast in other ways and then process that life in a way that gives me more life (and oscillating between those two) might be the best way for me to enjoy each day. Creative energy moves around and is dynamic. Sometimes, that energy can move to something else for awhile, and I can always follow it. It always comes back, and we can come back to it.
Strongly relate with this one too: "I find myself both ecstatic and pissed off. Ecstatic because I have the privilege of knowing precisely what lights me up; pissed off because I sat on this knowledge for so long." I've chosen to see that sitting on it for too long was in a way just charging me up to become who I am now. If I failed to act it would be a tragedy, but I haven't failed to act - I've just moved slower than I thought. And that's ok. I'm not very fast, that's all.
I've been on a bit of a hiatus myself of late (both here and on X (still (maybe always?) weird to say 'X' lol)), this is a great reminder to welcome myself back
Awesome reflections man. Thanks for the note and glad it resonated
I really like this piece and it hit me in the side of the head like a ton of bricks. This is coming from a closeted writer who has used my newsletter to become a writer writer, and the quote about “writer by heart” is exactly how I feel.
Love this shit keep doing it, I’m a lil newsletter subscriber guy sitting here getting inspired by your words
Love it. Thanks brother, this made my day. Keep writing!
Great read 🙂
“But if I subtract the life part, the whole thing breaks down.” Loving this insight.
I was reading and was like, "wait a minute, I know that guy!" Thanks for the shoutout homie. And I feel this post - I think I wrote a similar post actually. Writing takes effort, even when you love it, even when you're called to write. Stumbling is guaranteed, and all we can do is get back in the saddle.
Well said as usual my friend
So you're telling me you're not a slacker?
I didn't say that
“ One of life’s greatest tragedies may be to have the privilege of knowing who you are and to ignore or hedge against it. To not truly give yourself over to it. To reach the end of the road and be left with nothing but the haunting feeling that you had one chance at a divine opportunity, and you held back.” I would love to discuss this in person. Glad to have found your blog.
Really nice piece, Alex.
Funny how writing —when you're a writer, when you think you're a writer, when you think you think you're becoming a writer — becomes the most natural way to relate to the world. But, at the end of the day, you still have to be "in" the world to relate to it. And you can be in the world, a part of the world (or, apart from it, for that matter), without having to write about it. Those experiences just build, accumulate, percolate — until, at some point the washing machine is full and the only thing left to do is start it. It often almost feels like the machine starts itself.
(Kind of like, in archery, the goal is to release your arrow on the target without thinking about releasing the arrow. There's a koan for you.)
I wrote a few weeks ago how I've struggled to be earnest with myself on who I am — how I can be both a writer (a poet, an essayist, an existential rambler) and an entrepreneur (as douchey as that may sound). How it's easier to keep that emotional distance from your multitudes — and we all contain multitudes — by relegating the deep, meaty, intimate parts of your writing to the footnotes of your newsletter. But, as they say, the only way out is through, and like you said, you only start losing when you stop playing.
(For what it's worth, that essay is called "On Never Settling" and after it we make lobster risotto. Again: we contain multitudes.)
So long-winded way of saying thanks for writing and articulating some of the same ideas I've been thinking about (writing about? Is there a difference?). Glad you're back in it, and look forward to seeing where you end up!
Holy shit Lou. This was all so beautifully said. You're right, it does often feel like the machine starts itself - like it has to.
You're also spot on in that it's easier to keep an emotional distance from your multitudes. Given that you've both developed that level of self-awareness and that there exists deep, meaty, intimate writing that has made it even to the footnotes of your work, I'd say you are working more earnestly than most to close that distance. And that's all we can really do, right? To progressively work toward becoming a hair more integrated, or cohesive, or authentic, or whatever we want to call it. The only way out is through, indeed.
Thank you for reading, for the thoughtful note, and for acknowledging your own experiences with all this.
About to give On Never Settling a read!
You’re absolutely right -- all we can do is try to get a little more integrated, a little more enlightened, every day!
Gah, related to so much of this! Every paragraph resonated. Welcome back, Alex The Writer!
Hey Alex, this piece soothed my soul! Such a good reminder it's ok to have a healthy amount of writing in virtual purgatory and that some pieces take time more than others to actually publish! (I've got one I've been working on since May but has been super ceded by others up til now.)
Also resonated with the mini existential crisis over answering the "WhAT do yOu AcTuALly dO?" question. Agree that it's a silly question (although I understand why we say it). It gave me a good giggle. Looking forward to the next piece that gets released from virtual purgatory.
Thanks for the kind words Renee! Glad it resonated. Keep writing!
Beautiful piece. Sometimes a sabbatical is what we need to recharge the battery. Keep up the good works
Much appreciated Stan!