Writing is something that I treat as a passion, but I’m starting to learn that it might be more of a coping mechanism for me than anything.
I haven’t written a lot on the site in the past few weeks. Hell, I haven’t written at all, on the site or otherwise, in weeks. At first, the reason was that I was swamped with work. Then I realized it wasn’t that; it was that I’d just been happy for a while.
Most of my writing would come out of the feelings we’ve deemed less than pleasant. A lot of posts have come from feeling isolated or alone, struggling with connecting to people. The poems I write come from feelings I don’t really get.
The jokes I write usually come from not understanding something. Something makes me confused, or I think is weird, so I try to dissect it. Why is it the way it is? Why does it happen like that? What if it happened another way? Try and think of it differently, so my brain makes it work. That’s where the jokes come from.
Yet the last while, I’ve felt genuinely happy. Not that I haven’t been happy, but I’m starting to realize that with feelings of happiness the urge to write is weaker. This bugs me a bit.
I treat writing as a passion, and as something that connects me to people. So now that I realize I’ve stopped, I feel less connected. That’s not the best recipe for keeping the happy going, now is it?
So now I’m trying to learn how to write from happy. I don’t really like the portrait of the tortured artist, where creativity only comes from places of being upset. I try not to take myself seriously, because I find serious me boring as hell. It’s just an important realization to know that writing happy is a bit of a different animal.
Just because I’m not sad doesn’t mean I can’t write authentically. Just because I’m not confused doesn’t mean I can’t question things and make jokes. The laughs I get aren’t the only thing that makes me happy; the happy can come first. It may take a little while to get used to, but it’ll be fun to write from happy.