Hello, I’m Molly and I write about my slow and simple life in the Scottish Highlands. Please subscribe to support my work and to read more of my stories. You can also find me on YouTube and shop my Etsy Store and sustainable Teemill Clothing.
I want to write because I can’t breathe without it.
Whether its a spider’s web glistening with autumn dew or the sound of a loved one’s footsteps returning home, I want to capture it. Coax it gently. Squeeze it firmly. Revisit it again and again. Relive it for an eternity.
I want to write because some of my life’s most poignant moments have been found in books. My closest and most intimate relationships have been purely fictional. Yet their rawness stuns me every time.
I want to write because, often, I can’t remember if something happened in my life or a book. My joy and anguish for characters feel as real as if they were my closest friends.
I want to write because I have consumed hundreds of thousands of words. All jumbled up inside me. Waiting to live on a page of their own.
I want to write because books are my home. They have given me the most magical hallucinations. An escape for quiet souls that are wild at heart. A precious gift to give to others.
I want to write because we always have. Humans need to tell stories, whether it be with our pens, keys, chalk, hands, eyes. Its one of the simplest yet most exquisitely beautiful skills anyone can possess. The ultimate equaliser. The harder our lives, the better our stories.
I want to write because it doesn’t matter if stories are ‘real’ or not. They are real somewhere.
I want to write because, no matter how far society advances, or what alien technology we create next, nothing, not one thing, will match the power of a word.
I want to write because it’s my superpower. A skill I have honed but never needed to be taught. Even in the childhood attempts of story writing; all haunted houses, time travel and heroes that are bravely conquer all. It has been within me all along.
I want to write because I am a woman and I am so proud of that. I want to empower others as they have done me. Reading their stories, both what they write on the page and what stays unwritten.
I want to write because after many false starts, wrong turns and side tracks, I know its what I’m meant to do.
I want to write because it is the only thing that will get me out of bed at 5am on a cold winter morning. Watching the steam curl from my first tea. Clutching the blankets close. Knowing its the most important thing I’ll do that day.
I want to write because when it flows, there is no better feeling in the world.
I want to write because I can’t breathe without it. I am writing. I am stories.
I want to write because I want to write. And that’s enough.
This is a recent journal entry where I took 25 minutes to answer the prompt ‘I want to write because’. Why don’t you give it a go? I’d love to hear your own reasons below.
I hope you enjoyed a slightly more raw post this week. I felt like it was something I needed to share.
Until next time,
Molly xx
Lovely post, helped me to reflect on what motivates me to write which is to make sense of my internal world by providing a safe space where different aspects of myself (or “my selves”) can have a voice. My journal reads like a play interspersed with quotes from podcasts, books, astrological aspects plus descriptions of my creative process.
The act of integrating walking, writing & making art has become a daily practice for over 30 years. I have over 200 A4 journals and have bequeathed them to the Great Diary Project.
There are many “books” within the diaries, however, I find it hard to find a format in which to share excepts or to develop certain themes as each seems to betray my other interests that all feed into the whole.
This platform feels more accepting and safe to be the complex beings we are without sacrificing our humanity for the demand that we brand ourselves to fit with the algorithms of social media & search engines. I can’t and won’t limit my expression & prefer to feel the wind whip my face on the moors, listen to the haunting cries of curlews and notice the ferns shapeshifter into swathes of red ochre cloaking the hills than worship the screen.
Being 60 years old sharpens your discernment regarding what warrants your attention. Where I offer it is my only super power.
I want to write because I can’t stop myself at the moment. It started a few months ago and I can’t not put the thoughts down on paper. Whilst that feeling is with me, I am embracing it and it is helping me to see the world through I different lens.
Thanks for sharing, Molly and for promoting me to think about this too. Have a soothing slow Sunday 🫖📚🥾