Why We Need Writing

Yesterday was fall (the season is currently fall, but yesterday was especially fall-ey). It was brisk and overcast, and the leaves looked like a screensaver on a loop—they just kept falling. The wind smelled like the forecasted rain, as we drove across a half dozen Chicago neighborhoods during rush hour. We pulled up to a red light in our big fifteen-seater van full of college students. Because we sit higher than everyone else, even in the middle lane there was a clear view of the Boost Mobile store on the corner, and the blow-up, one of those tall stick men that waves his arms back and forth and flops both ways.  While we were sitting at the light, a big guy (lots of ice cream kind of big, not lots of weight lifting) wearing a black shirt came out of the store. The shirt had printed on it the words "man of the hour." He slowly bent over and picked up the electrical cord at a joint between the black cord of the blow up guy and the orange extension cord. In his hand he had a piece of duct tape. It was about a foot long, and he was trying to put on the joint, probably to keep the joint dry in the coming rain. The wind was blowing it around and he kept trying to straighten it with his already full hand.He frowned and chewed his bottom lip.

Then the light turned green, and I couldn't watch the end of the story.

This is why we need writing. Writing is like the Instagram of the literate world. Writing is how you record the stories that you see all around you every day. The beautiful seconds, things both poignant and gentle, the moments that bring tears to your eyes and you're not sure why.

A picture says a thousand words. But a thousand words can tell a story that brings delight to your heart, or puts a knot in your throat, or fills you with resolve to do bigger and better things.

And we need those emotions. We need writing.

What if it Rains

Setting up the full sound equipment for a choir and band to perform outside, for instance in a park, takes an extensive amount of effort. Between speakers, wires, and every small technical detail, by completion it's been several hours of labor, lots of sweating, and a good amount of tactician's effort—how things need to be positioned to sound the best, where they'll be out of the line of vision (but still effective), and the wires that need to be set and draped to avoid a rats nest of tangle. All of this, and what if it rains? You have to pack up and clear out quickly, to save the equipment. Even if the band only played for five minutes, rain doesn't make the process worthless—but it certainly feels that way.

Sometimes you spend a long time on a piece, working very hard and putting your best into it.  Then something goes wrong; someone doesn't like it and 'they' only have negative things to say about it.

That doesn't invalidate it. It is always worth it to write.