To write or not to write ... That really is the question.

I haven’t written anything in a long time. In fact, I stopped writing on purpose. 

Here’s the thing.  I like to write.  Or I used to.  People have always told me that I am a good writer.  I enjoyed writing my snarky little stories on life.  Then one day someone saw my writing and told me that they liked what they saw.  I was invited to join a writer’s group.  

I was a little intimidated.  A little in awe.  These were some serious writer people.  Some have published books.  Some have huge blog followings and huge FB followings.  Some have pieces appearing all over the Internet all the time. These folks are the real deal.

I began interacting with this group, and reading, and writing a few things.  I got to know them.  They are a different breed.  Writing for them isn’t something they do from time to time.  Writing is a passion.  A must. A definite need. A compulsion.  A calling.  It must be done.  They bleed onto the page.  The results are beautiful.

And I learned something.

I am not a Writer.  I enjoy it.  I am good at it.  But I don’t NEED to do it. That is not me. I don’t have to put words on a page.  There are no sentences and stories and words spinning in my head, vying for a way out.  

I purposefully stopped writing, to see if it would matter to me.  And it didn’t.  Not writing hasn’t made my life any better or worse.  It hasn’t made any difference at all. 

I am a good writer.  But I have no desire to be a Writer.  I don’t care if I publish pieces on websites or magazines.  I don’t care if I ever make money at it.  I don’t even really care if I write ever again.  That makes it sort of hard to be a part of a writer’s group.  I’ve toyed with the idea of leaving.  But I will stick around as long as they will have me.  I have met some incredible people there.  And I enjoy reading their words.  I can even say that some of them have definitely become friends.

Once I made the decision that writing is fun, but Writing is not something I aspire to, a weight was lifted.  I don’t have to be a Writer.  I don’t have to submit and publish and toil and agonize over it.  That’s pressure I was putting on myself, to fit into a category that I really don’t want to fit into.  

Writing is a hobby.  A sometimes thing.  But it’s not a calling.  At least not for me.

Maybe I will start writing again, with no pressure to submit or fit a theme or category.  Maybe I will never write another blog post again.  I am okay with either one.  The words will come, if they want to, when they want to.  Maybe.  One day.