Dreaming Together

I'm not very good at the things I write about.

Sometimes when I'm bored, I go to my blog and read a couple old posts. Why? Because I am just that egocentric. But as I've looked over some of these old posts, I've noticed that there are a few themes that pop up pretty frequently. I suppose that's how it is for any writer--they gravitate toward certain topics. There is a problem for me, however. I normally have no idea what I'm talking about. Many of the things that I tend to write about--taking risks, relationships, increasing productivity, trusting God--these are areas of life that I'm really not that great in. I'm not very good at the things I write about.

I could write about things that I do excel in, but I don't think many people want to read blog posts about eating chicken nuggets or sleeping past your alarm.

I guess that makes me a hypocrite. I encourage others to do something but then never do it myself. But maybe I'm only a hypocrite because we've come to think of the purpose of writing in a certain way. Our world today is so pragmatic. We focus so much on learning how to do certain things. We read books that give us tidy outlines and lists of steps for improving our lives. Since this is the situation in which we live, I feel the pull to write according to that model. When I start a post, I normally only have half an idea, and when I get to the end, I think, "Well, now I need to give readers some practical advice," so I make up some nonsense that I've never tried and that I'm not even sure will work. I might as well give singing lessons to Adele.

The problem with this pragmatism is that, while we might make good doers, we don't make good thinkers. When we only read or write about what we need to do to make our lives better, our imaginations shrink, our critical thinking skills dwindle, our dreams become smaller.

I started this blog almost four years ago with the idea that life is a conversation. Navigating life is a difficult enterprise, and we would all be a little better at it if we were to listen to one another. For a while after I started writing, a lot of my good friends also started blogs, and it was great to glean from the wisdom and passions of each of them. Now most of those blogs lay dormant, which is what happens when people grow up and get married and start real jobs, I guess.

I wonder sometimes if my blog has run its course and I should stop writing. It does take up a good chunk of time, and I normally don't have enough of that as it is. (I mean, all these YouTube videos aren't going to watch themselves!) I have trouble coming up with new ideas, and I don't think any more people read this than did two years ago.

But I've kept on writing, and I plan to continue. Writing this blog helps me more than it helps anyone else, I imagine. I need the opportunity to formulate my thoughts, and I still hope that somehow, the ideas I tap out encourage or challenge others. I'm not willing to let the conversation drop, because I need it more than anyone.

If life is a conversation, and if writing is a means of contributing to that conversation, then it would make sense for a post not to end with a clear conclusion of pragmatic principles. That's not how we converse in real life. When I have a conversation with someone, I don't end each statement with ways that what I've said can be applied in everyday life. I just say what I want and leave it out there, waiting for the other person to respond by adding to it, countering it, agreeing with it, or changing topic. Conversations are open-ended. So I think it's okay for a piece of writing to be open-ended. It doesn't have to conclude with a challenge to go do something; it can simply stop when I'm doing saying what I want to say.

In writing and reading, we engage in collective dreaming. When a person writes, they don't have to just present principles for application, as if they are saying, "Here's how you can learn from me. Here's what I'm an expert in, so let me share it with you." Instead, the writer can cast a vision of what life could be and invite the reader to join in that vision. When we write, we have the power of projecting a possible world, even if we haven't really achieved the vision we describe.

That's why I can write about things I'm not good at. I might not excel in these areas, but I would like to grow in them, so I put this dream ahead of me so that I have something to move toward. When I do this, I'm not saying, "Hey, listen to all my great advice so that you can be more like me." You don't want to be more like me. I'm a pretty messed up guy. But what I am saying is, "Hey, this is how I want my life to be, and it's what I want to move toward, and I'd love it if you joined me in this."

So join in the conversation. I'm not going to get through life real well on my own.

Here's ten ways that you can do this..........

Just kidding.

Mauric Sendak, the author of the children's book Where the Wild Things Are, died today. I watched the movie adaptation of this book a while back and really liked it, even then it was really weird. If you want to see some of my thoughts on it, you can check them out here.