Thinking with keys
I don’t really remember when it was I learned to type but I know that since my frist days back at school when I was eighteen I can remember thinking in typing. I would be reading my texts or considering my writing and I would feel the thoughts as if I was typing them out. Occasionally this trend was replaced with more amorphous, less tactile flights of thought. Generally, however, I think as if I were typing.
I actually quite love the feel of keys beneath my fingers as I type and I have done a lot of writing over the past years. So much of that writing has been for other people, usually with no or little credit. I did it because I loved to do it and it seemed like the write thing to do. Perhaps, I also did it because it was safe and free from the kind of vulnerability claiming our words brings.
There’s so little really worth fearing. Ridicule, scorn, and even being wrong and having to admit it are nothing worth fearing, certainly not worth a fear that is debilitating. I’m so grateful to be where I am at right now—a loving and supportive family, a beautiful city, amazing students—and there’s still so much more to do, so much more I want to write… like, a dissertation and a book.