I actually want to start writing for a long time now. I said “start writing” instead of just “write” because in my head writing has always seemed like an activity reserved for those with more important things to share than I do. That is why I procrastinate, because I thought that I have nothing of significant to share. At least, nothing that would worth the time of the day for other people to read, so I never start writing.

That is before I read “Putting Ideas into Words” by PG¹. Maybe I should have realised earlier that I have always had this wrapped view of the world, in which writing serve an external purpose and meaning, a social validation mechanism of some sort. I thought that if I can write like the people I admire, then I can become like the people I admire. But that is just misguided.

Writing about something, even something you know well, usually shows you that you didn’t know it as well as you thought. Putting ideas into words is a severe test.

Writing is in fact for oneself. It is not to become the next internet’s hit sensation. It is not to write some gospel that last forever either. It is for me, to learn about myself. It is a test to see if I actually have deeply thought about all these ideas inside in my head. Or I just like to think about things; none of which have any substance worth exploring further.

If writing down your ideas always makes them more precise and more complete, then no one who hasn’t written about a topic has fully formed ideas about it. And someone who never writes has no fully formed ideas about anything nontrivial.

It feels to them as if they do, especially if they’re not in the habit of critically examining their own thinking. Ideas can feel complete. It’s only when you try to put them into words that you discover they’re not. So if you never subject your ideas to that test, you’ll not only never have fully formed ideas, but also never realize it.

PG voiced my fears precisely². How can I, with conviction, let these ideas set my life’s compass, when I haven’t even given the time to sufficiently examnine any of it? Isn’t that just plain ignorance? And there is no bliss in this either!

Blindly following such thoughts seems no different from randomly choosing between becoming a doctor or an engineer by rolling dice. While I’m capable of pursuing either path, a meaningful choice requires deep introspection. My trembling hands would have made me a liability in surgery, yet ironically, I can solder electronic components with surprising steadiness. I love to build and fix things, not people. Such self-awareness comes only from careful contemplation.

Now, I think that with time, my thought might change. The ideas that I expressed in these essays might even contradict with who I become someday. Yet the effort to put them down into words will never be wasted. These essays stand as proof that I once took the time to deeply comtemplate these matters and have the courage to share them with the world. That, in itself, gives me the confident to move forward with the sort of conviction I would never have otherwise.

I hope, with that, I have also inspired you to write. Not for any other external validation, but for yourself. Because the best way to be unique is to think for yourself.

I actually want to start writing for a long time now. I said “start writing” instead of just “write” because in my head writing has always seemed like an activity reserved for those with more important things to share than I do. That is why I procrastinate, because I thought that I have nothing of significant to share. At least, nothing that would worth the time of the day for other people to read, so I never start writing.

That is before I read “Putting Ideas into Words” by PG¹. Maybe I should have realised earlier that I have always had this wrapped view of the world, in which writing serve an external purpose and meaning, a social validation mechanism of some sort. I thought that if I can write like the people I admire, then I can become like the people I admire. But that is just misguided.

Writing about something, even something you know well, usually shows you that you didn’t know it as well as you thought. Putting ideas into words is a severe test.

Writing is in fact for oneself. It is not to become the next internet’s hit sensation. It is not to write some gospel that last forever either. It is for me, to learn about myself. It is a test to see if I actually have deeply thought about all these ideas inside in my head. Or I just like to think about things; none of which have any substance worth exploring further.

If writing down your ideas always makes them more precise and more complete, then no one who hasn’t written about a topic has fully formed ideas about it. And someone who never writes has no fully formed ideas about anything nontrivial.

It feels to them as if they do, especially if they’re not in the habit of critically examining their own thinking. Ideas can feel complete. It’s only when you try to put them into words that you discover they’re not. So if you never subject your ideas to that test, you’ll not only never have fully formed ideas, but also never realize it.

PG voiced my fears precisely². How can I, with conviction, let these ideas set my life’s compass, when I haven’t even given the time to sufficiently examnine any of it? Isn’t that just plain ignorance? And there is no bliss in this either!

Blindly following such thoughts seems no different from randomly choosing between becoming a doctor or an engineer by rolling dice. While I’m capable of pursuing either path, a meaningful choice requires deep introspection. My trembling hands would have made me a liability in surgery, yet ironically, I can solder electronic components with surprising steadiness. I love to build and fix things, not people. Such self-awareness comes only from careful contemplation.

Now, I think that with time, my thought might change. The ideas that I expressed in these essays might even contradict with who I become someday. Yet the effort to put them down into words will never be wasted. These essays stand as proof that I once took the time to deeply comtemplate these matters and have the courage to share them with the world. That, in itself, gives me the confident to move forward with the sort of conviction I would never have otherwise.

I hope, with that, I have also inspired you to write. Not for any other external validation, but for yourself. Because the best way to be unique is to think for yourself.