There are a million reasons to hesitate writing and I think I’ve contemplated all of them.
After all, writing feels a whole lot being naked in front of crowd and why on Earth would anyone want to do that.
I am a master at talking myself out of things by focusing on what everyone else might think.
What I have learned, however, is that life is short and that if something keeps nagging at your soul, then maybe you’re meant to do it.
Tonight, I was inspired.
Yes. I suddenly found a bit of creative inspiration I had lost.
Honestly, the inspiration came from me.
(Yeah, I know. How self-absorbed.)
But it’s true.
No, I wasn’t inspired by my own work.
I was inspired by my old self.
The me that was still discovering.
Man, I was pretty lit up with ideas back then.
There was so much I wanted to try and so many creative thoughts floating around in my head.
And it’s okay to admit that, in life, it’s hard to keep that freshness from getting stale.
You can try mentally to make that happen again, but that’s much too logical.
And nothing really good starts logically, does it?
I mean, you kind of have to believe something is a little crazy for it to be really, really good.
At least that’s my experience.
So when I accidentally stumbled on the old me, I was right there again. Right at the beginning.
I had forgotten all of the good stuff I wanted to do and I had forgotten that it wasn’t too late to do them.
They say you shouldn’t look back, but I disagree.
In this whole growing older process, sometimes we leave the good stuff behind us.
I don’t think it’s a bad thing to rediscover it sometimes.
Here I am.
All wired on coffee and ambition.
Man, it feels good.