Why Write?

How I enjoy a mild day. A mild temperature outside allowing me to open up the windows and doors to my apartment and feel the openness, rather than enclosed and feeling the constant cool air from the AC along with hearing the whir of the fan going nearly constantly. I feel a sense of relief, like a weight falling off my back. A weight that was more than just the heat but also going to a new job which seemed so great at first but ended up becoming a very stressful place. It was already stressful before I started.

My first day started with an orientation that led to coming over to where I would be working and meeting the supervisor there. After the introduction the first thing that was said to me by my new supervisor was that he had put in his 2 weeks notice that very day. This took me by surprise. I knew I had to learn as much as could before he left.

After a few days I saw that I could never learn all I needed in just a couple of weeks.

Then there was another coworker there, who was the main reason the supervisor was leaving. He was nearly unbearable. It was only the two of them there for two years and after a few weeks I could only wonder how the supervisor had endured him for so long. It was mainly because he felt guilty for wanting to leave. He literally had to seek therapy to help him overcome his guilt so he could leave. There is one other coworker there who has been there a couple of months longer than me.

When he left, I was alone with this very annoying person while the other coworker left for 3 weeks of military leave. The stress became intense as he constantly complained about everything and put down everyone. I tried each day to find some way to communicate with him and explain that his energy was very negative but he simply couldn’t understand. Everything was the fault of other people. Nothing was his fault. By the end of the three weeks I was very stressed out, sleeping very little. I mean, I’m being paid very well, at least by my standards. More than I’ve ever made before. The place is chaotic at best and no formal system or structure existed. Everyone was at each other’s throats, blaming each other for everything. It was an Asperger’s nightmare.

The day the other coworker came back from leave this coworker put in his notice to leave. This was as another supervisor had been hired. One that didn’t know the business at all, being that this place is like no other place. You don’t find the items through the system but only by memory. Thousands of items, all places in drawers and cabinets throughout the building and no way to find them except by being shown and then remembering where they are. As you might guess, I’m an Inventory Specialist.

During his two weeks of notice he started training the new supervisor. He trained him so poorly that when he left we had to correct many things he had taught him. So we now have a supervisor but he can’t make any decisions because he knows less than we do about everything.

On top of it all, the other coworker really doesn’t like me much. We have nothing in common. He is younger and more concerned with how others like him. He told me that he came to this job thinking it would be easy so he could go to school and have a job where he didn’t have to think much. This job is the complete opposite of what he thought it was. Just as I thought it would be organized and structured from what I heard in the interview and it ended up being the exact opposite. I can see why I’m paid so well. They want me to stay. Believe me, if I was paid a lower wage I would have left in the first month. Even with the wage I considered leaving at times.

Things seem to be settling down now. We have had a lot of conflict, something I don’t enjoy at all. I have to endure others competing with me, which I don’t do well either. But the new supervisor is a good person and he is about my age which is nice.

I found it interesting how they always kept me from doing certain things. Mostly helping out the managers of the departments we stock. The others would do this so they could get in good with them. So they could be important people to them. Then when I had to help some of the managers, they noticed my emails and how well they were written. How I would research each thing thoroughly then write a very well written email creatively explaining everything in detail and how I was able to do this so quickly. Soon I became the go to person for written communications with other parts of the company.

Of course, I would see their emails and see that they were written very poorly and vaguely. Much like a Twitter post. Most people don’t write much. I’ve been writing for over 40 years. I was 12 years old when I wrote my first poem and I fell in love with it from that moment on. It caused great conflict between me and my parents because all I wanted to do was become a writer, where they saw it as a waste of time.

I really should be writing all the time yet, for me, writing often seems vain. I no longer desire to be a “writer” per say. But when I’m not writing two main things happen. Over time I become very stressed out. I feel a great weight build up inside of me. I also noticed this last week when I said to God, “I feel numb. I can’t feel anything.” A couple of days later a great passion came over me and I sat down and wrote.

Writing also scares me. Not so much the writing itself but the passion that leads to the writing. It simply overcomes me. Writing takes time and when I fall into the passion, hours pass like minutes. I don’t get much else done, not that there’s much I really need to do. But I ignore the dishes and do them impatiently as they build up too high in the sink. I forget to go to the grocery store. I simply lose track of most other elements of life.

The main thing about writing is that I rarely think about what I am going to say when I sit down to write. I often start by writing about the weather and from there the passion kicks in and many times what I do write seems more like I’m channeling from some other place other than my own mind. Many times when I have finished writing I can only thank God for using me.

In some ways it’s like I’m programmed to write. I am terrible at verbal communication. I often stutter and can’t find the words I want to say. But put me in front of a keyboard and a blank page and I can fill up the page in no time.

When I wanted to be a “writer” my desire was to write to other people. For other people to be able to connect with what I was writing. Now that I have no desire to be a “writer” I’m learning that I am writing solely for myself. This is what caused writing to seem vain to me. If I’m writing only for myself then what’s the point?

Even so, I can’t write only for myself, like in a private journal. In order for me to write I have to post it for others to read. It’s funny because I don’t seek any kind of popularity for my writing. Recently I watched the finale of “America’s Got Talent” and thought about the pressure those people must have to face in life now that they are known and popular. I could never endure such a thing. I need quiet and privacy, which is everything they will lose. But it’s what they want. They are doing what they do to please others so they can be successful. Oftentimes they lose artistic freedom because now their entire life and creativity is based on what pleases the public and now what is truly within them and their expression is secondary. They become owned.

Then I think of my relationship with God. It is very different from what it was in the past when I tried to be a Christian and live the Christian way. Try as I did, I couldn’t live that way. In many Christian circles, passion is seen as a sin. Yet only through passion can I express myself. A passion so great that it overwhelms me to the point where I actually fear it. I fear it only because I feel like I’m losing control over other aspects of my life. Yet only through this passion, which is deemed a sin by some, can I truly touch the divine.

Like I’ve said before, all my life I’ve felt as if I have one foot in the physical world and one in the spiritual world. At times this has caused conflict within me, especially when I didn’t understand why it was happening. Not only that but when I finally realized that most other people don’t experience life in this way, it caused me to feel very insecure and anxious because it made me different from most everyone else without any understanding as to why I am as I am.

With the realization that I have Asperger’s, this answered that question. Then seeing that others with Asperger’s, though they may not feel the same way as I do, they too feel as if they are from another world or realm that is very different from the one they have to interact with each day. Maybe if they realized what that other realm truly was then it might help them to understand more about their own perspective of life. But some have different programming. Some are better at math and other logical skills. Yet, I’ve always termed my style of philosophic communication as being that of writing “philosophic equations.” Writing mathematically or logically, as well as artistically and creatively.

All I know is that I must write. And this means that I must experience the passion. A passion that causes the rest of my life to not be very orderly. I have to be flexible with the other aspects of my life, other than with work which really doesn’t interfere with writing as it does with others. I actually need work in order to write. I’ve tried staying at home and writing and nothing really happens.

With the passion I no longer eat and take care of myself as I do when I’m not writing. Yet, when I’m not writing, even though I might be doing healthier things, I rarely feel good. In fact, I’m miserable. I can eat all the vegetables, fruits and other good things at scheduled times along with exercise and still I’m miserable. When I’m wiring, which means I’m no longer focused on the machine of how I am but the spirit of who I truly am, which is where the expressions come from, I feel alive and filled with energy.

Through this I can see another conflict. Where the world tells me that I need to be worried about the health of the machine yet what this is actually detrimental to my health. The longevity of life is not the focus. The focus is in the experience of today. Fulfilling the “purpose” within me by simply doing as I’m programmed to do. A “purpose” that I neither sought nor desired through my physical perspective yet it fulfills the heart of who I truly am. And it is this heart that is of the divine. The divine being that all who are of the world seek to avoid and even destroy, not because it’s not within them but because they are unable to understand it.

Always trying to compare and combine the physical with the divine. Perceiving the divine through the physical rather than the physical through the divine. Believing that creation is all that they can see with their physical eyes and failing to see that creation comes before the physical. That the physical exists because of the divine. The spirit creates the physical. Form is merely an artistic creation of spirit. Spirit is consciousness, the very thing that scientists cannot define nor understand. And consciousness is God in which all can be one through the Son who paved the way for flesh to become spirit through Him and thus exist eternally as one with the Father in His “kingdom.”