Some time ago, I read two books. It wasn’t intentional, but they happened to be autobiographies and, coincidentally, the authors belong to the same writing group in Portland. After having read them, it kind of made sense. They were about journeys, about finding a way out of a broken past, big sorrow, drugs and destructive sex, a desperate need to feel something. And a will to tell the story of that journey.
The first book was “The Chronology of Water” by Lidia Yuknavitch. Raw and furious and full of passion. Yuknavitch did a beautiful little TED talk about being a misfit.
The second book was “Wild – A Journey from Lost to Found” by Cheryl Strayed. Definitely easier to access, it was turned into a Hollywood movie starring Reese Witherspoon. But also, full of sorrow.
They inspired me. This way of putting your life into words. Especially Yuknavitch’s fragmented telling of her life. She is oceans more brutal than I could ever be, I don’t crash like a wrecking ball into life, but the way of structuring memories into moments, pictures, an assemblage of the senses. Telling a story in the blink of an eye. I think that’s what I’ve been trying to do, a little, since I started writing at age eleven. And then, a lot, when I started blogging at eighteen. And why I have never managed to stop, just shut it down, even when the time between blog posts has turned into months. Never had the heart to. There is a need there, I think. Quiet, but persistent.
But also, it is in conflict with a much louder need. The one of doing good. The one that sees the wrongs in the world and wants to make a difference. The one that guided me onto the path of problem-solving environmental research and sustainability science. How could I justify spending time on exploring myself through words, when the world is on fire?
Lately, though, I think I’ve started to realize something. The world is incomprehensively complex. In order to actually do any good in it, you need to make good decisions and play to your strengths. But how can you ever do that, if you don’t know who you are? Some people might know from the moment they’re born, at least that’s what it seems like. Those together people who just act and do well and don’t worry. But for the rest of us. We need to find our way, and sometimes just running out into the world without understanding where you come from can lead to skewed judgments and poor decisions and in the end do more harm than good. Sometimes, dealing with yourself is the best thing you can do for everyone else.
And I think, maybe, this is where authors like Yuknavitch and Strayed are contributing to solving a little piece of this complex puzzle of our world on fire. Through their introspection inspiring others to look inside themselves also.
We just have to remember not to get stuck in there. Look inside, and then, look up and enter into the world, clear-eyed, whole, and with a purpose.
Katja Malmborg 