WHY I DONT WANT TO BE A WRITER

Why I don’t want to be a writer.

I don’t want to be a writer. No, not because I don’t respect the written word, nor do I think that its time has past in the generation of electronic communication.

I certainly don’t want to write about feelings. Not my own nor anyone else’s.
I look at the page and I say sorry this does not capture what I am feeling.

(ok, I am not talking about world class writers, or divinely inspires writers like king David’s verse “If I forget you, Jerusalem, let my right hand forget. Let my tongue cleave to my palate if I will not remember you, if I will not bring to mind Jerusalem during my greatest joy” – can anybody have said it better? – before its beauty was diminished in translation).

I think people resent having their feelings defined. Because feelings run very deep and are unlimited in the way we feel them – when you love it’s without bounds when you hate you hate completely.

But there is a beuty in describing feelings in words. And it’s a paradox, because you are forced to define something that to you is unlimited.

This reminds me of the Chasidic explanation of the term “OR” – light. The ray of the luminary is limited it is insignificant compared to when it is in the luminary. Yet it is “MEEIN” it is of the same quality as the luminary. So it is a limited expression of something unlimited.