Writing isn't just about output. It's about mutation.

When we write, we are not only putting something out there into the world. We are changing who we are.

We challenge and clarify our ideas. We test our faculties of naming and articulation. We work on our communication. And just like any consistent practice -- whether hitting the squat rack (dose gains tho) or practicing a piece of music -- you strengthen yourself.

Most importantly, you fundamentally change in the process.

Every time you write, you mutate.

You are not the same person after writing as you were before. Writing doesn’t just shape ideas—it rewires your brain, building new neural pathways with every word.

In software, mutation is dangerous—it can cause unexpected changes, often leading to errors. But in personal growth, mutation is exactly what we want—incremental, intentional change.

Here's why the distinction between output and mutation is important: changing ourselves is one of the best reasons to write. If we focus too much on the output, on extrinsic motivations, we miss out on all the benefits of the journey of transforming ourselves.

I wrote another post this morning about making an AeroPress coffee. Fun, light, and relevant to how I started my morning. I used ChatGPT to help me write the post based on my post about French Press. I figured it would be quick and easiest to use its help to output another post.

Here's the thing: I didn't get my writing itch scratched. I recently crossed the 250 post threshold (posting daily since July 11 of 2024), and I've gotten used to a certain satisfaction of working my brain out in the morning. Prompting, generating, and editing an LLM to make my post bypassed my process of writing. It was like going to the gym and having someone else do my workout.

Sure, I got the street cred of visiting the proverbial gym and had a shareable piece of media to show for it. But by letting an LLM generate most of my post, I missed out on the mutation—the mental reps, the act of struggling to articulate something new. The output was there, but the process that changes me wasn’t.

Next time you're focused on output—whether in work, art, or relationships—pause and ask yourself: Is this changing me? Am I creating to grow, or just to meet expectations? The real value of creation isn’t just what you produce. It’s who you become in the process.

You may find yourself reconsidering not just what you create, but how the act of creating is shaping you.