A clear vision on a foggy day.

“Writing is an extreme privilege but it’s also a gift. It’s a gift to yourself and it’s a gift of giving a story to someone.”

Amy Tan

What inspires you? What is your goal? What is it that you truly want out of life?

I get tired of these questions. We read books that motivate us or listen to TED Talks or podcasts and suddenly we have goals and visions and inspiration. But of what?

To be healthy. To be happy. To be wealthy. I completed an exercise a few months ago that outlines my goals on emotional, physical, material and spiritual. And I realize how generic that is. It has not inspired me or motivated me beyond the usual ‘Hooya, I can do this’, week. We all want to be heathy. We all want to be less stressed. Have more money. Have a loving relationship. It’s a great vision.

But let’s be practical. Just envisioning your dreams does not make them happen. We all have bills to pay, food to buy, cars to drive. We don’t always get to work our dream job. We can’t just pick up and move to a beautiful island and live happily ever after.

And so I am trying to think specifically about what I want. What lights my fire. Is it the home or place I live in? The job I have? No and no. I like these things. But I can do without them. There are other homes, other jobs, other communities.

This week has been a tough week for me. I lost something that made me very happy. And so as is customary for me when I am in a fog, I sit back and think. I realize that my generic goals need to be scrapped. I need specific goals. I realized that right now there are really only two things I want in my life. Specific things.

I wear a lot of different hats. But there is one thing I do that I love. This. Writing. It is my one thing where I lose myself. Where all the things happening to me or around me can be momentarily forgotten. The thing I wish I could do everyday. From anywhere and at any time.

But I am afraid to admit that. I am afraid to come out and say, “I want to be a writer”. Why? Because I don’t think of it as a real job. Because it is not something that can guarantee me success. Because it is a goal that I cannot afford to have. Remember those bills to pay?

Maybe this is something that I can actually accomplish. Maybe, just maybe, I should try. And the first step is to admit it. To myself and through this, to everyone else.

So what the hell… I want to be a writer. I want to write. And I am writing a book. Now it’s out there and I can’t take it back. Am I afraid to fail? Hell yes.

But if I don’t try. I fail. So what do I have to lose? All the unimportant things and generic goals that I mentioned earlier. I could lose those. But when I put it that way, doesn’t seem so bad.

I hope you will buy my book.


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