About public writing
This is an entry from my journal.
I am an introvert. This means that I expend energy when I am in the presence of other people and store energy when I am alone. Introverts are often mistaken for being shy. While there is overlap, the two are not the same. Specifically in my case, I am not shy: I mean exactly what I say. I also am not touchy or sensitive and will appear emotionally detached even when I am actively engaged in the given activity.
Being sociable and having personal time is the right balance. I mostly get sociability through my coaching work, the text correspondence I maintain with various people I know or even strangers who ask me various questions, video calls with friends and family, and the occasional in-person event I attend. I wish the in-person events were more frequent, but I cannot change that unilaterally. I am working on it though and am open about making that a bigger part of my life.
My ambition is to help build a local community that consists of family and friends. What is the point of being a one-man-army, like I am now, if I cannot spontaneously tell my jokes to anyone?
Interpersonal relations, especially beyond tiny groups, are how we get to participate in culture and how we may contribute to its making. To cook, to dance, to do sports, and, yes, to argue and to fight. They all have the effect of showing us something that is beyond our own selfhood. We benefit exactly because we keep our horizons open; open to the possibility of that which we are not; the possibility as embodied in the other person; the “you”, which is immanent to each and every “you”.
The community is not about maintaining an echo chamber. Variety and indeed some pushback is benign and desirable, provided your individuality has enough space to be expressed in. For me, this practically means that I can still get some time alone.
Private time is restful even though I keep myself busy with tasks. For example, I am now writing this article after having spent time on a long video call with a friend. I do not feel burdened by the task. It does not drain my energy nor does it deplete my willpower. By writing, I draw immense fortitude from the heavens. My mind is razor sharp. My emotions are stable. My poise is perfect.
This is all because of what I write about and the manner in which I do it. Whether I expound on hotly contested political issues, general philosophical themes, technicalities of programming, or artistic considerations, I am always doing what I enjoy. I am not a “content creator”. I have not picked a niche on the basis of some business calculation and then figured out what its audience wants to consume. No. I speak my mind in earnest. I go as far as I need to and have no interest if anyone is joining me.
I cover what I like. I do it as a means of personal fulfilment. My ultimate goal is wellness. This is about my individual well-being, which can then emanate outwards. For as long as I am in a good condition, which is both physical and mental, others who interact with me can also benefit. Either directly, since I will support them through thick and thin, or indirectly by extracting the transferable parts of what I do and then applying them to their life.
Writing is an outlet for my creativity. It gives me the boundless mental space I need to put ideas to the test by thinking them through. Whatever I write about is the distillation of intense thought that has transpired over many sessions of meditation (“meditation” as in “intense, focused thought”). By the time I write it, it is already clear in my head and ready to be typed out.
Since the principal goal of my writing endeavours is to fulfil me, I am not distracted by other considerations. For example, I do not keep track of visitor data for my website. I do not care if anybody is interested in my musings, let alone what exactly they are doing with them. Similarly, I do not write for an audience. This is not some grand people-pleasing project. I expound on controversial topics and stand my ground with conviction. Not out of stubbornness, but as a function of having thought things through, as demonstrated by my nuanced statements.
Writing for my own sake means that I have found my lodestar. There is a fixed position in the sky that empowers me to orient myself at all times. This practically also means that I do not recognise any obligation towards anyone. I cover whatever topic I am interested in, say exactly what I think, and do it whenever I feel like. The entire process is self-contained. As a result, I do not experience mental fatigue, let alone burnout. The feedback I get from writing is enough to keep me going from strength to strength.
The writer’s life is the lonely life. There is no group event. You experience it alone and, at some level, cannot share it with others. It is very unlikely that you will meet a person who understands what it feels like to be a writer and then even more unlikely to find someone who also shares similar interests to yours. Put differently, writing is the wrong tool if your goal is to make lots of friends.
I do not just write though. I also do it in public. Anyone who has attempted this before knows the physical experience of stress that it induces. Your heart rate is more pronounced, you have difficulty breathing, and you feel pressure in your stomach. I often find that a comment I responded to on YouTube is deleted shortly after I have posted my reply. People yield to the pressure and eventually regret voicing their opinion, even if they have not received any negative response.
Imagine doing that over literally thousands of publications. Fundamentally, this shows that I am not only happy in the fulfilment I get from this activity, but also confident in my capacity to cope with evolving states of affairs. My ideas are well considered, so I am not afraid of being exposed. I put them out there exactly to increase the difficulty, because otherwise I find it too easy.
For me, that which is too easy eventually begets complacency which in turn results in enfeeblement. If it is a project for life, I prefer to remain alert, potent, and dangerous. By putting my thoughts out there, I am creating an accountability structure. I have set a standard and I am making it harder for myself to find excuses not to live up to it. Yes, this is my competitiveness in action. I thrive in the challenge.
Writing is difficult in itself. You have to keep a clear head to collect your thoughts on the topics you are about to expound on. You also need to be in a relatively good physical condition. If you are too tired, for example, your attention will shift away from the text. If you are suffering from a cold, you will not be in a position to concentrate. And so on. The environment is equally important. If there are too many things going on, all of which demand your attention, you will simply not have the energy to commit to the task of writing. Same idea for the computer setup: it has to empower you to focus on the task. Consistent writing is a reflection of consistency in general, which in turn speaks of attentiveness and decisiveness.
The feeling of being scrutinised is especially intense if you are not clear that you are writing for yourself. If there is hope in the back of your head that you will win accolades, friends, etc. then the fear of being judged and of failing will quickly take over. If you do not receive any comments, for example, you will interpret that as a sign that you did something wrong, or that you are stupid, or whatnot. The want for validation will grow stronger and will eventually compel you to some seek some cheap win where you trawl for positive responses. Those are a drug. It is where creativity goes when it wants to die.
There is no problem with public scrutiny if your attitude is right. If you are writing for your fulfilment and if you are, in this spirit of honesty, thinking things through, then there is nothing to be afraid or ashamed of: you already have far greater mental fortitude than the average critic. Indeed, to criticise demands knowledge of the subject matter.
What we usually describe as “criticism” are poorly informed opinions, half-examined thoughts, and momentary vibes. Only those who have gone through the rigours have criticism. If you get such feedback, then you should be dancing and singing because it will remake you for the better. The actual critic can upgrade you by dissecting your project and by telling you something about yourself that you are not aware of. The rest are not telling you something about yourself, but only about themselves with your publications as a pretext.
Public writing is a form of exposing who you are. Given enough words, you cannot hide the flaws in your thinking and the errors in your judgement. You cannot pretend to be somebody else. Even if you are writing with an alias and not explaining anything about your private life, a keen reader knows far more about you than you realise. I already hinted at this with how consistency in writing points to consistency in general and to other qualities by extension. The flow of thought, the expansiveness of ideas, the coherence therein, the interconnectedness of concepts… Those you reveal right away. Even your character in terms of self-control, emotional regulation, and how logical you are can be inferred. These are all reflected through the text.
There is also scrutiny on what exactly you write about. You might make a comment that someone finds insensitive. Or someone may think you could say something else. Or they may not like your style. In short, you might receive negative comments. If you keep getting those, it ultimately means that you have to work on how you express your thoughts and formulate your arguments. You can describe something useful, for example, but do it by using a metaphor that is racist or otherwise inappropriate. Nobody will think about how right you are, but will instead point out your sloppy and ultimately ineffective expository writing.
Inexperienced people tend to pay too much attention to negative comments. Sometimes negativity points at something valid, but it may also be a reflection of the person’s own shortcomings. Learn to be honest with yourself, magnanimous in your understanding, and fair in your judgement. Does the other person actually make a valid point? Do they say something that may be correct in another context but does not apply specifically to you? Could it work for you as well? Can you imagine changing your ways accordingly? Alternatively, you may find that the comment you got shows a lack of understanding of what you wrote: they did not engage with the argument, for example. Be fair in that too and dismiss it without hesitation.
If you are not clear on your goals, negative comments will discourage you from publishing. Are you doing it for the feedback? Why would you pick this lonely and thankless task as your vehicle for receiving validation? Negativity cannot touch you if you are not there for the feedback. The same is true for positive comments though. Those can also lead you astray because they may condition you to please the audience in order to elicit another pleasant response. This is yet another drug that will quickly throw you off balance.
Remember the ultimate “why” you are writing. Be faithful to that and blot out all the noise. Then you will be untouchable.