The subject has never come up. No one has ever asked me why I write although plenty of people are extremely encouraging and amazed that I write and so consistently.
I started writing this rough sketches that weave themselves in and out of my mind every day because I am realizing a childhood dream of being a writer. It took me some time to understand but I finally understood that a writer is someone who write and not someone who is successful at writing. I know that we all want to be successful at whatever it is we want to do and we all fear failure deeply, however the only way to get at anything is to let go of what has been or could be and focus on what is.
As a writer and you yourself as a dreamer, we’re not asked to be successful. We are being asked to be faithful. Faithful to our dreams. Faithful to the work that needs to be done to realize that dream. Faithful, not successful.
And so I write because deep down I am unsettled. We don’t talk about this often but I am very perturbed about death. The the uncertainty or pain that might come, but the potential futility of everything. I really dread a reality that doesn’t include some kind of a future after death. There are people who have died that I miss terribly and keep my hope alive that there will be a day, when I will be reunited and that all those memories and all the things we went through together mattered.
And that is why I write. I write to discover meaning in my life. I try to grapple with the questions life is asking me every day and make some sense of it. I write too, so that you can be encouraged or uplifted to answer your own questions. To discover your own meaning of life. I write so that you can rekindle your dreams, and walk a little taller, speak a little louder, and love a little deeper.
I don’t aim for success. I don’t control that. It would be lovely and all and I am going to do everything in my power to snag me some of that success, but my aim is just to finish. To not let a day go by without putting my thoughts down on the screen. At least five hudred words or so. Drip by drip. Step by step. Wherever it may lead.
This is why I write. This is why I don’t intend to stop writing. Writers write. Dancers dance. Lovers love. It is more of a state of being than a will of doing. There are days when it hurts deeply to find mistakes or to not know if anything is good enough to do anything. But I remind myself that I am meant to be faithful. I am not to reject myself, not to reject my talent. That is not my calling. It is the calling of everyone else to either read, or politely pass me by.
You don’t have to be a writer, but I do believe you have to be something. If you don’t have a passion you get at every day, I would strongly encourage you to find something. It can be big or it can be small. It can me lengthy or short. Difficult or easy. But no matter what engage life with more meaning. It’s good for you. Good for me, and good for everyone you meet. Maybe if we all had something, something we willingly shared with others, we’d spend our time engaged and more supportive of one another. Maybe we can create paradise on earth. In our lifetime. Maybe that dream of dreamers past can come true.
But that’s for a another day. Today I write and tomorrow I will set out to write again. Thank you for reading. Thank you for thinking, but that is not enough. You need to do me a favour. Go start something. Be someone you know you want to be. Take some steps. Do some things today that will bring you closer today than you were yesterday, and tomorrow do it again.
Cover photo generously provided by photographer Adolfo Felix via unsplash.com