I like to think that everything happens for a reason (don’t we all?). Synchronicity and circumstance are uncanny and, non-the-less, impromptu. Unless we are seeking it, or as some hippies and other Yogi-minded-spiritualistic-seeking people, like myself, like to say “Tuned-In”, we may or may not realize a “sign” when it smacks us in the face like Ali during one of his greatest knockouts. I’d say it’s no random occurrence that the first Blog I came across upon creating my first ever WordPress account is an article about, of course, Blogging.
What does it mean to be a Writer? Is there a definition for it? When we put a definition to something, does that give us the right to then define ourselves by that term? I find myself wishing that Apple will hurry up and finally develop the app or Siri or iTech that can sync with my brain and type for me as I’m thinking. Of course, all my creative juices are only/always flowing as I’m driving, or naked and soaked in the shower. The most inconvenient times when I am not trying to think… the words form sentences… and, from my perspective at least, the sentences for pretty damn hilarious, cool, awesome, intelligent, worth-reading phrases and paragraphs. From there, it’s my job to put all the pieces together into one cohesive thought… or in this case…. a cohesive Blog. Who’da thunk?
The very first novel I ever obtained and read for pleasure, was Stephen King’s On Writing. I have no idea why I read this book, or where it came from. (Props again to you, Universe.) I was 16. I had jotted down random thoughts and called them Poems my whole life until this point. But, I had never considered myself a Writer. I still don’t. It’s that exact idea of the definition of a writer that holds me back from, of all things, writing. I had a good friend and inspirational entrepreneur casually ask me recently if I was a writer. I hesitated, only for a second, and with all the insecurity in the world and only a hint of hope did I respond with, “Yes, I can write” while awkwardly raising my brows, pressing my lips together and shrugging my shoulders in a matter-of-fact gesture. It was at that moment that I decided to turn what I thought was a white-lie, into truth. So, over a decade after reading Mr. King’s knowledgeable and well-written, very clear advice, will I take him seriously. (I’m a Capricorn… do you expect any less stubbornness?)
I promise to dedicate time to writing. I promise to hold no judgements. I promise to work through insecurities. I promise to see my fear, and do it anyway. In all aspects of life.
So, again, what does it mean to be a Writer? In the end, who cares. (Not a question there.) If you want to write, then hell, do it. I have to say, Nike’s big wig advertising advisor Dan Wieden had something to it (though his inspiration slightly morbid) when he coined “Just Do It.”
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