I have difficulty writing when I can’t reach the Internet. After all, is it really happening if I can’t post it? Is it real if I can’t share it? Did I really live it if I can’t communicate it?
Social media makes traveling alone a pleasure (or certainly tolerable). Whatever I see or do, I can share it with you, my friends and family. As I am experiencing it, I am composing what I will write to accompany my photos. My entire day is a narrative that will pour onto the page.
I only feel lonely when I am electronically removed. I curse the Internet when it doesn’t work. It has seduced me into believing that I am not alone when I am half-a-world away and so I respond like an indignant virgin when it arbitrarily cuts me off. How dare it remind me that I am not with anyone, that I am truly solo?
A sad result is a feeling of isolation that dries up my creative juices. My written word doesn’t want to fall into a void.
This raises many questions. After all, part of the reason I go into retreat is to create an atmosphere of freedom to write. The solitude allows me to deeply ponder thoughts that fly away in my normal life. So I ask the main question: why do I write if not for myself?
After two weeks of mulling it over, I have an answer: I write for my family and friends. You are the ones who give me the love and security necessary to leave the coziness of my own home and venture into retreats and adventures.
Without you I might never write.