I do think three quarters of the battle in this life is
finding a wholesome passion to pursue.
Something so worthwhile that it moves your soul and consumes
it; You feel it richly igniting.
Writing does it for me totally. It’s therapy. It’s
productive. It re-aligns my head. It nourishes my creative urges. It makes life
a lot more worthwhile.
I used to love writing stories as a kid and I’m so glad I
rediscovered my long, lost passion. (Glad I found this treasure again with a better
brain and a richer understanding of human experience.) I’m lucky to have a
passion…but I don’t believe its out of reach for anyone on this planet if they
just keep looking, keep turning over life’s stones, and clearing the mud off
the underside.
Selfish ambitions and vain conceit simply DO NOT cut the
mustard for me: what’s the point in doing something for those reasons? Yet, we’re
all wired differently, and some would disagree.
Even if my books are never discovered, I had a heck of a fun
time writing them, and I showed great resolve and patience in completing them.
I know I can look back on my life and say; at least I made the most of my little talent
and tried to nurture it to flourish even if it was only a tiny flower in a garden of abundance.
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