Hand Written

I write this post with pen and paper. Well, I guess that you, future reader, are probably going to be reading this on my blog, so I’ll have to type it up at some point. Oh well.

            Anyways, a few weeks ago I decided to keep a journal. My reasoning for this is related to the relationship between our memories and who we are. I’ve heard that we are the sum of our experiences, but most of those experiences somehow lose their way and end up drifting off, like balloons that slip from the hands of some kid. I want to be able to remember this moment thirty years from now, sitting here in this metal desk, writing a blog post with a pen and paper.

            So, I decided the best thing to do would be to keep a journal. Well, it is not like this is the first time I have tried. I typed one on the computer for a few days last year. That didn’t last though. The whole point of a journal was that I saved what I did and thought, but the words on the screen of a computer seemed so ephemeral. With a few taps of the keys I could delete that thoughts I had poured out onto the screen, leaving me once again with an empty canvas. Even after writing hundreds of words, I hadn’t really accomplished anything. So, that attempt to begin a journal trailed off, falling from the “Nice try” cliffs into the “better luck next time” oceans, where I didn’t really think it would resurface.

            The catalyst for the reemergence of that sunk idea was my summer and the free time that came with it that allowed me to contemplate my life. I realized that the only thing greater than that which I learned is that which I have forgotten. We fight a losing battle against time’s erosion of the stones in which we carve our memories. In the absolute end nothing can endure, for nothing but oblivion will remain: Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. But isn’t fighting that erosion part of what it means to be human? My small rebellion starts with the fortification of my defenses: hence, my journal.

As I recorded the thoughts of my days by hand at night, I discovered that writing by hand has certain advantages over typing. I sort of talked about this before, but even when the last few words written do not flow in the direction you wished they would, and you end up crossing out every other word, the page still contains the extra work that has been done. However it is not the same when we type. What is a page of putting pen to paper may only be a few of words in a word document. That I feel as though I am accomplishing a great deal (though I may not be), works wonders for my confidence that I am making progress, and therefore that further writing causes even more progress.

Typing also allows for things that are near impossible with pen and paper. I cannot go back and add to or edit my previous sentences. Often when typing I find that I spend more time revising that making headway towards the conclusion. That I can only work at the forefront of my essay forces the writing to flow, as thoughts naturally generate ideas that connect to previous ones. My typed essays would read more like a list of ideas and evidence than a chain or reasoning and thought. We, who have grown up in the digital age suffer from the fact that the bulk of our writing is done in fits and starts, due to the nature of typing. I am always astounded by the seemingly unconscious, off the cuff eloquence of even the average layman from before the advent of the computer. I think that faculty with words in some ways resulted from being forced to practice and write with pen and paper. I don’t know if I will ever be able to even match their fluency, for my thoughts move far too slowly for that, but why not give it a try, right?

There are also some technical reasons for writing with pen and paper as opposed to typing. If I were to transcribe the words I type write now into a word document without ever using the backspace, the page would be filled with more red than a solider would see on the bloody battlefields of old. What I do to words as I type is what a steel cleaver does to flesh: it butchers without thinking twice (or even once for that matter). Even the most able typists use the backspace key more frequently than any other, I would believe. Our forward progress is constantly interupted by our human inaccuracy and consequent use backspace key. 

It is true that writing by hand does have its downfalls. I found that since my writing follows the natural follow of my thoughts, it is near impossible to go back and add in anything that I have missed. In this recent personal essay, I could not anything in. It was like trying to add in an extra piece in to middle of an already full Jenga tower: it just doesn’t work. And of course, it adds the extra step of transforming the writing into digital format.

However, I think the benefit is well worth the costs. That writing has no open spaces makes it more stable and airtight, and when typing the hand-written work up, I catch things I wouldn’t have when I simply type.

So, if you ever find yourself starring at an empty white word document, you might try blowing the dust off the old pen and paper. And maybe the time you save could be used to shore up you defenses against time’s unrelenting erosion of our memories by starting a good ol’ fashioned, hand written journal.

Now I have to type this whole thing up. Damn.