Reading and writing have always been a part of my repertoire of interests. I’ve usually been an avid reader (and when I’m not, it’s a sign that something is off-balance internally), I wrote short stories in school, and my AIM/MSN Messenger away statuses were always exceptionally curated.
As I burned myself out over several years of intense corporatese, I read and wrote less1. My therapist occasionally asked me, “What are you reading these days?” and “When was the last time you picked up a book?” She didn’t go beyond asking; she knew better than to prescribe me something to do, another task to accomplish.
After I succeeded in burning myself out completely, both things called to me. I started by signing up for a class in The Writing Salon on writing through grief. I was called to it instinctively, even if I couldn’t describe why then. I know now I was grieving something, the death of an ambition. I started attending reading events at Green Apple Books, my local bookstore, because it was something I liked in grad school, and I had to get myself out of the house. Going to those events was (is) a way of traveling without moving; they have afforded me an incredibly valuable education.
My spirit was working to heal itself with words; all I needed to do was follow its lead. Those two events sparked a change, and my life is so much better for it.
Part of this has also been an opportunity to reinvent myself. To be honest, that was maybe the scariest part. My fear and concern about what others would say. Would people think this is a foolish endeavor, that by focusing on non-fiction I would write about things that need-not-be-written about? Who does she think she is, writing on a blog?
I can’t say those feelings have gone away—I’m sure they never will—but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop. It’s a formula really… If the desire to write > the fear, then I will write. Sometimes, that if statement yields a very clear answer; sometimes, it does not. Writing is an endeavor full of rejection, and sometimes you wonder if you should really read into those rejections2.
Writing has also been full of amazing experiences. Over the last year, I’ve done things I secretly dreamed of but never really thought I would do. Through my writing, I’ve met a community of talented and caring individuals, and my life is much richer for it. I’ve also had some successes that are worth celebrating:
DELETED IN 2024 FOR THE SAKE OF ANONYMITY
I can’t lie, I’m still kind of nervous that this ambition will fall flat on its face or I will burn out on it somehow. But part of my intuition tells me that’s not what’s going to happen.
So I’ll keep writing, and hopefully, you’ll keep reading.
I’d like to invite you to consider whether there’s any ambition you left behind in your past, for whatever reason, that you want to revisit. Maybe it’s writing poetry, drawing cartoons, or making ceramics? If I were to stop you on the street and force you to answer, what would you tell me?3
Alright, that’s it for today. See you soon. Be well
Not counting my emails and PowerPoint decks as writing. They are their own art form.
Short answer: no. Long answer: no, don’t do it.
Other than “Alex calm down what’s wrong with you”
Drawing. It was drawing. My dad pushed me into computer sciences and I never picked up a pen again. Ironically, I developed a passion for writing on a keyboard.
Congrats on the publications!!🥳🤍