Why I Keep Writing Even When It Pays Zero Bills
“You use a glass mirror to see your face; you use works of art to see your soul.”
“Why write when you don’t earn much from it? What’s the point or end goal of your writing?” a friend asked me.
The question came out of the blue and caught me off guard. I was surrounded by friends I grew up with, who, though always supportive, didn’t necessarily share my zest for writing and the soulful part of me.
The fact that the person who asked the question is one of the nicest guys without any malice made the question more pertinent. He was not trying to put me down or make fun of me like many have done before. His question was genuine and borne out of curiosity.
I’ve always been uncomfortable discussing my writing life with my friends and family that surround me. It’s like there were two of me. The writer Mo, who is private, playful and soulful, reveals his thoughts only through journals, blog posts, and books. Meanwhile, the other Mo, the business owner, is entrenched in rules, control, numbers, what society thinks of him, and his performance.
Suffice it to say, I responded rather weakly to his question and was left to brood for a week on what I should’ve said.
I know it now seems like every week, I write to justify why I write. I’ve written here about why we all have an inner craving to create/write, as championed by my hero, Kahlil Gibran. I’ve also written here about how Bukowski invoked my inner madness. And I’ve written here about the power of self-expression.
However, here’s my proper response:
Dear Nice Friend,
I Write For Myself
I am naturally curious, and I can’t sleep if I can’t reason a thought or don’t have the full knowledge about something I’ve just learned. The only way my thoughts can become intelligible to me is through writing.
Like Stephen King famously said, “Writing is refined thinking.”
My thinking process starts with a particular question or thought that dominates my mind for hours and days. I keep reflecting on it, unconsciously discussing it with myself, and finally putting pen to paper in my journal.
Sometimes, my thoughts might expand to a blog post, a talk, a task at work, or a project. Other times, there is no final product but a clear understanding and reflection for me.
My process of thinking—how my words reach paper—is similar to the preparation of coffee. Coffee passes through many levels of refinement before arriving at our palate in liquid form. Raw beans are roasted, ground, mixed with hot water, and then finally strained and served.
So it is with thoughts.
Writing has become like breathing; I must write to remain alive.
I don’t write for my loved ones. I don’t write to promote my business.
I write for me.
We all need that “one thing” at our core—a vehicle for exploring our essence, exploring the mysterious places of our hearts, venturing into our past, and confronting painful moments stored in our subconscious.
Through writing, I face the stored-up hurt rather than judging or numbing my feelings away for fear of meeting them. I allow my highest self to express.
Writing transformed me. It released me from the shackles that had held me back since childhood. It has led to many of my spiritual trysts, wherein I meet my true self and feel the power of grace within me. It has penetrated deep into my soul, always asking and forever searching for the best way to be authentic.
Writing has already taught me many lessons that I can apply in my life. It has stripped me of my arrogant egoic ways and removed me from the closed-box mentality that has defined me for so many years.
Writing allows me to make sense of myself and the world around me.
I Write To Serve (Midlifers)
This discipline of sharing myself—my soul—has not only changed me but also inspired many others to dig deeper into their hearts and lives.
We all share similar stories, struggles and universal truths. When I get naked and vulnerable with my fears, it resonates with many. They tell themselves they are not alone. They understand that there is someone out there who is madder than them and is trying his best to maintain his sanity.
When they read me, engage with me, or like my writing, I’m reassured that I’m doing something useful. As I keep saying, humans are happiest when we are useful.
The people I write for are in the same boat as me. We share similar demographics, backgrounds and aspirations. I’m not writing for Millenials or Gen Zers.
I’m writing for Men and Women approaching and in Midlife who share similar traits and interests:
We are or were business people.
We live in a Jungle where many judge us, compare us, and compete with us—even when we’re tired and want to stop all that.
Material possessions don’t matter like before. Yes, we seek financial freedom and don’t want to rely on anyone for our welfare, but we are not looking to outspend Kim Kardashian.
Health and our bodies matter. We know and accept (well, some of us)that we are no longer in our 20s, and the goal is to be healthy, vibrant, and able to walk for a few hours a day in a European city, even when we are in our late 70s.
We are doing something that we love and are competent at. We are self-expressing with love. Not for money. Not for status. Not to gain any advantage. Simply for the love it. For me, it’s writing. For others, it could be photography, gardening, dancing, coaching, talking, etc.
We understand that we are social animals and make an effort to keep friends and family around us. We talk regularly and deeply but vulnerably. The weather doesn’t come up in the conversations.
We value kindness and compassion and want to become better people who love ourselves and others.
We are curious and adventurous. We recognise that we must leave our comfort zone to understand ourselves, others around the globe, and the world around us.
We accept that we are now closer to death than we’ve ever been. We know that we must delve deeper into spiritual matters as the other side beckons.
I know that if I remain faithful to my writing and investigate the topics above, my inner voice will strengthen, and I will become more connected to my higher self and other people.
And ultimately, this connection will bring greater mastery of the craft, knowledge of myself and broader service to humanity.
True, I’m yet to monetise well, and at some point, I must, as anything good and worthy should be monetised.
But even if I earn zero from my writing, it won’t stop me from writing—never.
To summarise, my dear friend, I write to maintain my love of life, and I write to serve the many people who are in the same place as myself.