I have made writing into my duty. No. Life has made my duty of writing . That´s closer to the truth. Or is that last thought just my way to hide from myself that I am addicted to writing? I get itchy when I don´t for a while. As if I’m cheating my responsibility.
A group of friends and I have been chilling out and running through Heidiland for the last couple of days. There’s no internet. We swim, we eat, we drink, we climb and lavish on life. Meanwhile, a part of me feels the need to make an unknown contribution. It has been several weeks since I´ve taken up the pen, and now that it´s touching my notebook again, it feels as if a certain amount of built up pressure naturaly releases itself into the paper. At the time I wrote down the title, it felt as if my nervosity was linked to the fact that we’re without internet access for a week, but the stream that just opened between my belly and the paper reveals otherwise.
The more general thing is that I need to feel usefull. Establish something. Add some value to life somehow. Being in the richest country in the world, surrounded by the ideal of succes, adds the feeling that I’m doing it wrong. And not being able to participate in my daily reality doesn´t make it easier.
I think that being usefull to the wider society is tempting because it is a morally responsible way of distracting ourselves from… well, from what actually? Our inner contradictions perhaps? Our obsession with solving them? From thoughts that emerge out of the darkness? From the actual darkness? Then again, I believe that real usefullness also confronts you with the darkness you try to run from. As a way to devour it. Digest it.
I expected I was missing my life and that internet was a way to access it. Yet what I was missing in this case was the feeling of pen on paper. My way to contemplate. What I needed to see is that I had to adjust to a different kind of balance: that of a group on holidays, where all of us have to look for our own ways to put our talents into practice, while the mountains make us feel small.
Being off the net together symbolizes that. Facing your life from a distance. Confronting the question of use. Reinventing the answer.