Sometimes in the chaos of day to day life, it’s easy to let a thousand other things take priority over writing. This is especially true when coaxing stories out of your head and into a readable form doesn’t also translate to something that helps pay the bills; if you don’t write, the only visible consequence is that your document remains blank and your novel unwritten, whereas if you don’t go to work, make dinner, do laundry… you get the picture.
To leave it at that is to sell the entire thing short. Because sure, on the one hand my writing is “just” a hobby. And yeah, if I want to change that I’m going to have to pour in a whole lot more effort and give it a significantly higher priority than I’m doing now. And I’d by lying if I said that wasn’t the goal (one of many, hence my trouble).
Yet on the other hand, thinking like that forgets that we humans are wired to tell stories: to entertain ourselves and each other, to make sense of this crazy world we live in, to talk to each other about God and life and death and everything. And I think that’s why, for me at least, there’s a distinct benefit when I do take the time to write every day. It has a leveling effect, as if it provides an outlet for all the spinning thoughts that would otherwise remain trapped in my skull. It’s not perfect; nothing is. But it’s a heck of a lot better than what happens when I don’t write.