Matter Of Clarity

Last week, I found myself in that all-too-familiar trap – trying to explain a complex idea to a friend, only to watch my thoughts unravel mid-sentence. My words got tangled, my point blurred, and I could see the confusion creeping across their face. You know the feeling – when something that makes perfect sense in your head comes out sounding like verbal spaghetti. Frustrating, right?

That moment hit me with a reminder of why I started writing seriously in the first place. It’s not about publishing or impressing anyone. For me, writing is all about clarity. It’s like a relentless truth detector for your thoughts. When you’re writing, there’s no room to hide behind hand gestures or confident tones. It’s just you, your ideas, and the bare-bones honesty of whether they actually make sense.

Jeff Bezos nailed this concept when he ditched PowerPoint at Amazon in favour of six-page memos. His reasoning? “The narrative structure of a good memo forces better thought and better understanding of what’s more important than what.” PowerPoint slides can let you dance around ideas with bullet points, but writing? Writing demands the real deal – fully fleshed-out, coherent thinking.

I’ve noticed this in my own writing too. When I genuinely understand something, the words flow naturally. Each sentence builds on the last, and everything feels effortless. But when my thoughts are muddy, my writing becomes a hot mess – dense, jargon-filled, and downright confusing. The page doesn’t lie; it mirrors back the clarity (or chaos) in my mind.

That’s why I’ve made it a daily habit, even if it’s just for myself. Sitting down to write forces me to confront my thoughts with a level of honesty that nothing else does. Do I actually know what I’m trying to say? Can I explain why I believe it? Spoiler: A lot of the time, what I thought was a solid idea turns out to be a vague impression that dissolves the second I try to pin it down.

It’s humbling, sometimes maddening, but always worth it. Writing has taught me to think sharper, speak clearer, and act with more conviction. Wrestling my thoughts onto the page is like a mental gym session – tough in the moment, but transformative in the long run.

So, I keep writing – not because I have all the answers, but because I don’t. Every word I put down is a step closer to figuring things out. And in a world that feels more chaotic and noisy by the day, clarity is gold. It’s a skill we could all use a bit more of, don’t you think?

As Richard Feynman once said, “If you can’t explain something in simple terms, you don’t understand it.” Writing, for me, isn’t just about sharing ideas with others. It’s about having an honest conversation with myself. And that’s reason enough to keep going.

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The Art of Knowing What It Takes

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First Principles