Penning

by Abena Ntoso

I sit at the dark wood dining table and write by hand. A slow process. I think I have much to say, but typing goes too fast, and I end up using worn-out words, a stripped socket. My meaning fits inside them loosely; at the slightest provocation it will fall apart. This is not what I want.

I want more than the standard rhetorical rations society gives me, more than the dregs of conversations I have already heard. Certainly more than what politics or popular culture will have me think. I want to stretch beyond these common constraints, so I write by hand, and this makes me slow down and reach for fresh fruits, wonder what else I might want to say.

This is the opposite of artificial intelligence.

In his 1946 essay “Politics and the English Language,” George Orwell advocates for a more artistic use of language. To prevent ourselves from turning into machines, he suggests, we ought to be both creative and conscious in how we use words to represent our thoughts. Orwell warns, “unless you make a conscious effort to prevent it, the existing dialect will come rushing in and do the job for you, at the expense of blurring or even changing your meaning.” 

An administrator at my job once sent a poetic email; perhaps it took her longer, but I certainly felt inspired by what she had to say. No buzz words, no motivational calisthenics.

In yoga, it’s the breath that regulates the pose, not the other way around. Orwell again: “What is above all needed is to let the meaning choose the word, and not the other way about.” 

I practice pulling myself together in the first post: breathe, stretch the ink, spread the mat. I think this fits.

March 22, 2024

The Literary Pilgrim blog features nonfiction creative writing on topics, themes, questions and ideas that I explore in my writing. My blog posts focus on exploring and examining topics or themes, providing information, and generating curiosity, questions, inquiry and interest. In each post, I explore questions such as: Why does this matter? What makes it interesting? How can I examine this in my life? How can I explore this in the world? How can we explore this in literature and writing? How can we explore this in art?