Why do you write?

I am mainly sticking to small towns in rural Colombia. Often as I walk, I think, and the other day this question popped into my head.

Lately, people have asked me what I do, and I say I write. Then I get asked what I write. Usually, I respond with my life here in Colombia or write about history. Both are true.

Yet why do I write?

I write to tell stories about my life, and writing has been therapeutic since I started putting words onto a computer screen. It has helped me gain clarity in my life, even if sometimes I write myself into and out of a situation in one post.

I write to get what is inside my head out, which does not always make sense. I often hope it translates or it does not.

Yet that is why I write to see where the bugs are and investigate them, almost like giving myself a self-cleansing session but in my brain, head, mind, and psyche.

Also, an online diary, as I have never kept an actual journal; this might inspire others, but I have no idea. I often think that my life is a mess, and I feel that I try to convey that anything is possible if you put your mind to it, and I hope that I inspire others to realize that it is possible to get yourself out of the muck and the mud, and continue.

That is a bit of why.

Yet I understand that others have other objectives for writing.

I like to tell stories of my life; some want to tell you how to live, make one billion dollars, or push some ideology upon you. These have been popping up more later in life and online.

Therefore, I must curtail my readings and stick to those I know will never disappoint me. I read, but I don’t always comment anymore.

I read for the pleasure of reading. I write for the joy of writing.

The need for validation was once there, and I was obsessed with it, and that is something that I have had to give up. I write for me; I write for the one reader who will never comment yet might feel touched by a random story I publish or video I put out.

When I write, I understand it is my opinion, and guess what? We all have our own opinions.

If we were all the same, how boring would that be? I like that people sometimes disagree with me; how boring would life be if we were all the same?

Sometimes when I write, I get heated or upset about a specific topic and might feel the urge to tell everyone to do XYZ. I usually never publish those articles.

They are for me to rant into the void of the internet, never to see the light of day. Yet sometimes, one sneaks by, as I am very passionate about nature and living in harmony.

I also understand that everyone can’t live harmoniously, walking through green pastures barefoot with a long white dress and not a care in the world.

We have too many cares in the world, so I chose to extricate myself from the ¨normal society¨, removed myself, and never told anyone else to remove themselves. We are all different, see?

Yet I still question why I write because 90% of when I get on any platform and see how to work 4 hours a week, how to this, how to that.

I roll my eyes and go to my tride and true, who never let me down with that. I even sometimes write and go to a fave and see they have written something similar.

That is how you know you have found your groove, your tribe, your community.

Now the point of the story, I have been struggling to find my community offline.

Today I was walking to a waterfall, and a bit lost. A truck pulls up beside me and asks if I am lost and where I am going.

I start to tell them, and he says I am headed that way and want a ride, and of course, I get in the car. Two dogs were hanging out the window; serial killers don’t have dogs, do they?

Anyway, he and his wife and student were in the car, and they have a permaculture farm nearby. They teach permaculture. They know a farm for sale near them. They invited me to see their farm tomorrow.

When you find your community, you will know and not have to push your opinions so hard onto others or sell your soul to the devil for a dollar.

As with life online and offline, your tribe will find you when you least expect it. I am not saying I will buy the farm or move, but as I put into the world what I want, it is slowly showing up in my external world.

Life is wild, isn’t it?

So why do you write?

XOXO

S