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I want to make the time to say—thank you!
Recently we celebrated an anniversary. Yes, we, because you joined me on this journey and I’m so grateful that we are here together today.
Just more than one year ago, on July 13, 2020, I made the decision to start writing again. I stopped waiting for the right time, searching for the best topic, and packed up the angst scratching at the surface of my desires.
I’d been mentally plotting a process and studying various routes. Then in an instant, I thoughtfully threw away the map, tossed aside the unfinished plans, and blindly made my way—destination unknown.
What I did know was this:
>> I wanted to write every day, any day, whenever it was possible.
>> I wanted to make a difference in the lives of others, no matter how big or small.
>> I wanted to honor myself and reignite my passion, making a commitment to write, then dust off the pages of a book started long ago, however long it would take.
Since that day, I’ve not looked back.
In life, we can find so many reasons to dismiss what may be the one thing we need most in our lives. We know we like it, or even love it, yet make excuses—even if we don’t realize it at the time.
I’m too tired. Work is too stressful. My family needs me; it would be selfish to sacrifice time spent with them. Or, I’m just not feeling inspired.
Excuses—not reasons. People make time to do what they want to do. They find time to engage and dive into the things that light a fire in their soul.
And that’s what writing does for me—it lights a fire in my soul.
How many of my pieces were written sitting at the island with my folks? A countless number.
How many of my pieces were written sitting on the floor of my living room, playing with my fur baby and half-listening to the news? A countless number.
How many pieces were written in the passenger seat of a car or in the family room while “watching” a movie? A countless number.
I was tired. Work was stressful. And my family was present, sharing time pursuing our unique yet collective interests.
But I did it and what I knew proved true.
I wrote every day, even if it was brief and simple in context. I learned that I was making a difference in the lives of others, through those who boldly stated it and those who quietly reached out to me personally.
And I reignited my passion, now an inferno that I never want to extinguish.
When I write, I come alive. For me, writing requires quiet reflection and soulful exploration in which I can sift through my thoughts and emotions, sometimes finding clarity and sometimes leading to the discovery that the simple act of jotting thoughts down is cathartic in itself.
When I’m in the throes of writing, it carries through to my daily life.
Writing grounds me. Writing is where I seek to quiet my mind, even when crafting a piece on the most complex, sensitive, or heated topic. Writing is how I heal my heart, no matter how painful the process may be. Writing is where I feel most at home, where I find happiness, peace, and hope.
Anger dissipates as situations become clear. Hurt paves the way for healing as I release my most conflicting and difficult feelings. The honesty is raw, exposing the most fragile parts of myself.
Ego just doesn’t exist and only humility remains. My curiosity is heightened and there seems to be an almost innate fascination in even the smallest of wonders.
Photographers see the world through a special lens—pun intended—and writers experience the world through stories. When you experience life from this viewpoint, you will find there is a story to be found in everything.
Why am I sharing all of this?
Because I want you to be reminded of this: if you don’t pursue your passion, you will die a little each day. Be true to you.
So here we are today, with more than 5,000 followers between my personal blog and Elephant Journal—my newfound community and family.
This is where I found solace, support, and encouragement. I virtually connected with individuals around the globe who have enriched my life in so many ways—and some who have challenged me to the core. Friends, foes, and some who fall in between.
You kept me connected and continue to do so.
How could I ever express the gratitude I feel inside?
May it have resonated, may it have been of benefit, and may it continue to be.
Thank you for reading. Thank you for following. Thank you for everything you are and everything you want to be.
Almost anything is possible.
As the quote by Robert Browning goes, “Grow old with me. The best is yet to be.”