My blog numbers suck. Yes they do!

Feel sorry for me! Pity me because…

Just kidding. Know I’m laughing. The truth is that I’m not obsessed with blog metrics at this point. If I persevere they’ll get better. Only good things come when you persevere.

But high readership, and a potential revenue stream, and other fun things, are not the only things that motivate me to press on.

What motivates me most to write on is the sheer joy of it. See…

Writing is a process of discovery. It’s giving form to notions beneath the surface of your conscious mind that exist in some nebula seeking expression. Sure, you’ve got an idea of what you wish to say before you put pen to paper, but you don’t know how the words will form. You don’t know from what other nebulas of the mind electrical currents will flow for cohesion of seemingly disparate thoughts into something new.

What comes out can surprise you. What comes out can fill you with pleasant emotions. Those emotions are sourced from the same pleasure centers that impel painters to paint and singers to sing. Simply put, as already said, the act itself brings joy.

But there’s more.

Those new understands are fuel for further developments of the mind and body. Thus there grows more energy to search for new truths and beauties. They too call for expansion and expression, through reading, and writing, and living.

Seriously, I don’t know where this puny blog of mine is taking me. Maybe nowhere. But maybe somewhere. I see things I didn’t before. Call this process an intellectual journey, a bookish adventure, or a real adventure, or whatever. But this journey into formerly undeveloped parts of my mind also brings joy. I feel – I see – myself having changed since starting this blog in May.

And this process gives me more confidence in what I say.

Granted, there’s a helluva lot to learn. I read history books and on display are words cultivated by hundreds of hours of meticulous research by men who have a lot more time for writing. Then there are the words of authors long dead that have lasted hundreds and even thousands of years – and mine will likely be forgotten before they’re known.

YET, I must speak. We all must. We all must speak from better understandings and moral convictions because the world desperately craves honest words. The act of selecting words through writing empowers you to know that the right ones are coming from you in whichever situation. There is clarity and confidence.

You will speak better. People will respect you more.

The fact is your written words reflect the organization of your mind. Ideas flow more clearly and confidently when you speak because you have already practiced such through written words. Remember this when you write.

Remember also this can be joyful.

So, I’ll end this blog before I start rambling on bad handwriting, and more powerful nebula of the mind you access through cursive, and the need for youth to let their imaginations flow through creative writing, and…

Regardless, I’m grateful for discovering this free and simple joy. As we get older, sober joys wherein we lose track of time can be harder to find. After all, life can pulverize the creative states we are more prone to experience when we are younger and freer from worry. Writing is that creative state for me.

Lastly, I’m also grateful for my 7th grade English teacher named Mrs. Gorman for helping to instill this passion. She’s no longer with us. But, dang, she made on impression on me.