For day two of Reverb 10, we writers are prompted with the following from Leo Baubuta:

December 2 Writing.
What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it?
(Author: Leo Babauta)

I thought about this for a short bit but my mind was quickly drawn to this recent letter from writer Charles Bukowski to William Packard:

“When everything works best it’s not because you chose writing but because writing chose you. It’s when you’re mad with it, it’s when it’s stuffed in your ears, your nostrils, under your fingernails. It’s when there’s no hope but that.”

– Charles Bukowski

The fact is, there is nothing in my day that does not contribute to my writing. Every moment. Every experience. Every sense. Even the times I appear to be goofing off or doing nothing. Yep, all of it contributes to my writing. Why would I – how could I – eliminate a single bit?

Here’s a little exercise. Let’s replace the word writing in the prompt with one that has equal value to me:

What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your breathing — and can you eliminate it?

See what I mean?

Writing is the way I translate the world. It’s the only satisfactory tool I have. It’s pleasure. It’s pain. It’s a drug. It’s sex. It’s life the only way I can feel it.