This resonated with me, especially the distinction between actions and thoughts. Actions can be placed in a system; unfinished thoughts have no obvious next step, so they remain active in the background.
I’ve been finding that writing does more than record such thoughts—it tests them. Some become clearer and strong enough to stand on their own; others collapse and can finally be released. And sometimes, rather than closing the loop, writing turns a vague unease into a precise question that we can choose to return to.
Either way, it is no longer merely noise. Thank you for articulating this process so clearly.
This is so true, writing it down does create space. I often find that once I’ve written that what I thought I was writing about actually becomes something else entirely. It happens all the time and I don’t know why I’m so shocked anymore, but you could knock me over with a feather every time 😊
Yes, and the amazing or slightly spooky thing about putting it down on paper is that the thought is then so free to leave my mind, that when I revisit it years later, thinking I have had a ‘Eureka’ moment, I realise I have completed the entire thought process before.
Great insights here. Helps explain why writing can feel so cathartic. I always feel like I’ve reached a deeper level of understanding of whatever I’m writing about after I’ve revised and revised a draft.
These observations are very true. I have even had the experience of writing an essay about a situation that was bedeviling me, and having a palpable feeling of a weight rising off my shoulders as I finished the piece.
Then, two weeks later -- after literally years of helpless confusion over this particular situation -- it completely resolved, in a beautiful way.
Writing really is a way of healing. And its power goes well beyond what we may consciously try to engineer.
So true! Writing feels like solo venting. Getting those little bits of thoughts that hover in your brain and rambling them onto paper where they can stay.
This resonated with me, especially the distinction between actions and thoughts. Actions can be placed in a system; unfinished thoughts have no obvious next step, so they remain active in the background.
I’ve been finding that writing does more than record such thoughts—it tests them. Some become clearer and strong enough to stand on their own; others collapse and can finally be released. And sometimes, rather than closing the loop, writing turns a vague unease into a precise question that we can choose to return to.
Either way, it is no longer merely noise. Thank you for articulating this process so clearly.
🙏🏼
This is so true, writing it down does create space. I often find that once I’ve written that what I thought I was writing about actually becomes something else entirely. It happens all the time and I don’t know why I’m so shocked anymore, but you could knock me over with a feather every time 😊
🙏🏼
Yes, and the amazing or slightly spooky thing about putting it down on paper is that the thought is then so free to leave my mind, that when I revisit it years later, thinking I have had a ‘Eureka’ moment, I realise I have completed the entire thought process before.
🙏🏼
Great insights here. Helps explain why writing can feel so cathartic. I always feel like I’ve reached a deeper level of understanding of whatever I’m writing about after I’ve revised and revised a draft.
🙏🏼
These observations are very true. I have even had the experience of writing an essay about a situation that was bedeviling me, and having a palpable feeling of a weight rising off my shoulders as I finished the piece.
Then, two weeks later -- after literally years of helpless confusion over this particular situation -- it completely resolved, in a beautiful way.
Writing really is a way of healing. And its power goes well beyond what we may consciously try to engineer.
🙏🏼
So true! Writing feels like solo venting. Getting those little bits of thoughts that hover in your brain and rambling them onto paper where they can stay.
Thank you :)