Why I Practice Writing Almost Everyday

Writing things down is one of the great loves of my life. And not just lengthy treatises on politics, society or motherhood, even just lists. I love lists. I love words. I take delight in taste of repeating a new word on my tongue and the way even the oldest, most familiar words look on paper.

Writing is my meditation practice. Writing things down centers me, affirms the duality of the essential and inconsequential matter of my existence in the expansive universe, and quiets my mind. Always. So I practice, knowing this is something that I will never live long enough to perfect.

I began to write I think mostly because I’m terrible at conversation. Genuinely. Dreadful. This is perhaps my biggest failing. I rarely if ever intend to be rude, but as my patience likewise has not been perfected (but, boy is the Universe working on me!), in good conversations, especially about big ideas, my mind often races to conclusions and hopscotches over the end of other people’s sentences reaching conclusions and drawing inferences before they have been outrightly stated. I find and stack counter arguments even when I don’t disagree. If you ever want to know weaknesses in your argument, I am your girl.

A conversation with me often doubles back on its own lines of thought. I research and read articles online how to be better at this. I try to…