Zen Writing and the Essence of Writing

This blog has become for me a virtual palette for Natalie Goldberg's Zen writing exercise. In Writing Down the Bones, she suggests this exercise daily:
Set a timer for, say, 10 minutes.
Put pen to paper and write.
Do not edit or stop until the timer rings.

I have done this exercise sporadically over the years. It is helpful to flex one's writing muscles, to get used to the idea of writing daily, and to just allow words to spill out from you onto the page. I think of it like singers running scales, or a pitcher doing warm up pitches.

Of course, here in blogland, these writings can actually be seen by others, whereas with my pad of paper, that is not the case. So this is also an exercise in opening my writing to the public.

Isn't that the idea? To write and then send it forth for others to read?
One would think so. But that entails a willingness to be seen in such a personal way, and a trust that others will read what is written and perhaps interpret it as was meant. It is a lot like standing in your underwear on a crowded street corner.

One lesson I learned after 13 years as admin in the Department of Communication is that message sent is never message received. How frustrating for a writer! My goal has always been to write words so clear and true that my meaning cannot be misinterpreted. But that is never possible.

The audience gets to make of the writing what they wish. Reminds me of the old Melanie song, What Have They Done To My Song, Ma? And in this electronic age, the misinterpretation can spread instantly and ubiquitously, leaving little or no trace of the original idea.

Why is it so important to me for my words to be read and understood? Because writing is what I am, my yoga, my way of interfacing with the world. Because I could no more stem the tide of my words as I could cease to sweat. Because this is the essence of me, or my one best manner of presenting the essence of me. Because the wondrous body of human writing is a miracle, a record, a delight, and source of such wisdom and poignancy and truth, that I must be a part of it. It is my link from my soul to my own conscious mind, and to the minds and souls of my fellow humans.

What is your link? Your expressive obsession? Can you boldly exercise it and then present its results to your fellow humans?