Taking Up the Pen

It can be an adventure. It's allure is undeniable, but easily discarded. My blogging history evidences this clearly enough.

It's 2 AM currently, and the world beckons to me. Writing is remembering. It is an invitation to take everything one has seen in the world and process it, possess it, and preserve it. Writing takes hold of all the eclectic and random data one collects--data in danger of becoming forgotten and trivial--and creates something meaningful.

I'm alone. A small pool of light from my screen, and round my desk. Then darkness. The inveterate distractions of Facebook and petty browsing exist, close at hand. Sleep is a sound idea: rational, necessary. But these all leave my world small, isolated.

On the other hand, as I pick up my pen, I am grasping at the world. In my memory I find, and define, the things which make our life significant. I grow in my ability to pay attention to what's worthwhile.

Viewed this way, writing becomes adventure. A wild roving through the real world while it slumbers around you. Walk with me.