Why Do I Do This?

I would rather die of passion than of boredom. - Vincent Van Gogh

I love to write. I love to get outside. It's actually two of the three attributes in the description of who I am on this blog. But why do I do these things with such passion, to the point that I am ignoring important responsibilities in my life to sit outdoors and write at this very moment? How are the two callings related and what is it, exactly that they do for me? Writing purges me of thoughts and emotions that clutter my head. Getting outside replaces the thoughts and emotions that clutter my head with both simplicity and clarity. The common denominator seems to be the problems with my head. Frankly, I don't see any of it as a problem. I see it as an opportunity. A chance to find a little bit of peace.

When I go outside, not just to get in the car to go to another inside somewhere else, or to walk the dog, but really go outside, something pretty incredible happens. The negative things that have taken up residence inside my head start to loosen and fall out. I don't know if they fall out of my ears, or my nostrils or seep out through the pores on my neck and face, but somehow, they seem to leave my head. They are replaced by extra air, the kind that doesn't happen indoors, by bird sounds, by the attention to my feet taking their next step, by the big sky or the small flower demanding all of my consideration and appreciation. OUTSIDE takes away the things that threaten my peace.

Writing. I don't often write, per se, with pen to paper as I used to when I was younger, but I get the same sensation no matter how I feed the whiteness of the page. I prefer the computer these days because my typing fingers move at the pace of my thoughts, while my writing hand doesn't. It satisfies a need in the same way that going outdoors does, by removing the negativity. It offers the opportunity to push out, in the most honest, most edited way the thoughts that get stuck, but serve no purpose. I get to say them, then erase and say them better, and keeping doing it again and again until I finally surrender them to the page. WRITING also takes away the things that threaten my peace.

I have had some challenging times lately and found myself leaning on these two obsessions more than usual. It has felt like some very large doses of "life isn't fair" are being fed to me, but the good news is that I don't have to swallow any of it. I can spit it out in the form of my written thoughts. I can push it away with the peaceful time I find outside. Time in nature. The chance to weave words together. How lucky am I to have not one, but two things that can feed my passion and bring me such peace?

Just go outside. Just express yourself. Find some peace.