Writing for Me

.When I began writing this blog several years ago, I intended for each post to impart a leadership lesson. Gradually, however, I realized that I wasn’t writing for an audience of leaders; I was writing for me. Other than trying to avoid grammatical or factual errors so I wouldn’t embarrass myself publicly, I began to write about anything that pleased or puzzled me, anything that clarified my thinking for my own benefit. I do hope others will enjoy or be inspired by my writing, but that has become secondary to the writing itself.  

In her book The Light of Days, the Untold Story of Women Resistance Fighters in Hitler’s Ghettos, Judy Batalion says “autobiographical writing records inner development, introspection validates identity and strengthens individuality.” She goes on to say that writing was common among those trapped in the Warsaw ghetto: “Writing provided a sense of control over their destinies, an attempt to refute terrifying social decay and preserve faith and order. In writing, they searched for meaning...” While I do not mean to compare myself to the heroines of the Ghetto, I see now that when I wrote “Counting the Days,” about how I was experiencing COVID-19 in July 2020, I too, was trying to gain a sense of control over external circumstances and to find meaning.

I have always believed that writing is a form of learning. Now, with less time left than lived, but still with lots to learn about myself, writing gives me joy.