Why I Write
To me, writing is not work. Writing is like dancing with Existence, with Spirit, with God. It’s beautiful and precious. I get more satisfaction and energy from writing than I do from a few extra hours of sleep. Seriously.
Some days, when absorbed in the moment of writing down a stream of thoughts, I lose track of time, and I skip sleep altogether. And I function fine the next day–only with a bigger smile.
Sometimes a string of words will hit me so strongly that I will sit in front of the computer bawling. I cry, not because I am sad, but because I’ve experienced such intense joy that it moved me to tears.
Writing is just one form of creative outlet. I am no more qualified to write than you. And usually, as I relax and flow with my stream of consciousness, and write down whatever comes to mind, the result is surprising to me too. I am just a messenger after all.
I am no more qualified to write motivational thoughts about happiness than you. I have many bad days and embarrassing moments throughout my daily life that I am not proud of. On some days, when I make mistakes, like hurting someone’s feelings, I wish that I were someone else – someone better.
Perhaps writing is that outlet for me to become someone better. To learn from the messages which get transpired through my writing. Perhaps, unconsciously, that’s why I started this blog (and the daily newsletter) in the first place, so that I can remind myself to stay strong when things get hard. And boy do things get hard some days.
Some people have commented that I seem like a selfless person. I really don’t think I am. I don’t think you can truly be selfless unless you are talking about your children, or a mythological enlightened person you hear stories about–who have achieved the heightened and permanent state of unconditional love to all things alive. If this enlightened state is even possible I know I have definitely not reached it–at least not yet.
What I do know is this. I am not writing out of “choice” (lack of a better word), but out of a force beyond me that pushes me, urging me to write, and it won’t leave me alone until I do. Call it inspiration, if you will.
I feel like we are all here for specific purposes–to be great at something and to provide something unique that makes each one of us exceptional. For me I think that means writing things that inspires motivation, happiness and empowerment;
And if I’m allowed one more life purpose–which I am, because we write the rules to our own life–it would be photographing people’s faces–capturing a moment between moments when a person’s true spirit is revealed. You can always tell from the eyes of a person if the moment is genuine.
That is pretty much my story. Simple.
Besides the obvious people in my life whom I love, motivating people through inspirational writing and capturing authentic moments through photography are the loves of my life. When I engage with these loves authentically they make me feel utterly alive. They make me feel overflowing bliss. They make me feel like a loose cloud, floating freely in the beautiful blue sky, bathed by the hot sun above, and watching as the world unfolds around me.
When I say I am a messenger, I am not referring to channeling a mystical spirit, or some holy magical person. I just mean that I know this is my unique purpose in life. This is what I was brought into this world to do. I now know that with unquestionable clarity–since Nov 5th, 2010 at 12 a.m. (when the first draft of this post was written).
I’m like a little green plant, standing proudly in the garden. Even though each plant may seem insignificant on its own, without it, and all the other plants like it, the garden would no longer be green; the garden would no longer be a garden.
So you see, the little green plant (me), in collective effort with all the other green plants (you) is important in the end. Together, they (we) make the garden possible.
I’m like that little green plant in the corner against the maple fence, and you are that little green plant next to the pink flower, and you are that little green plant two rows next to the apple tree. We are all important, and together, we make up the gardens of this world. We are what make this world beautiful.
And not doing what I was brought into this world to do would be like the little green plant letting itself die, leaving a little patch of brown dirt where the green plant once resided.
This is the reason why I write. To keep the little green plant in the corner against the maple fence green (and happy). I’m simply playing my part, following my heart, flowing with inspiration, and doing a little bit everyday to keep the garden green.
And it is with my deep hope that you will find and recognize the little green plant in you. If you haven’t already, remember to be nice to yourself. Just relax, it’ll happen. Follow your heart’s song, and all things will fall into place.
Life is not a race. Only we, confused humans, make it so. It’s not a race, but rather a journey to be enjoyed. Slow down. Listen to your inner voice. What is it telling you?