Why I write

More and more often, I try to throw a switch inside my mind that shifts my attention from consuming to creating, from following instructions to making my own rules, but usually something pretty disturbing happens. I tap at the keyboard for a few minutes before I lose interest, then go back to happily grazing on websites like Youtube or Metafilter. I occupy myself with nutrition free mental junk food that offers me nothing of value, but leaves me starving for more. I turn on my television, watching shows that make me want to buy sets of DVD’s that remind me to get the soundtrack featuring a recording artist who wears merchandise from a sports team meant to remind me to watch their game on my television.

It’s all because I made a wrong choice a long time ago. Instead of being willing to take risks and push myself to reach further, I chose to make myself comfortable, to be safe and sensible. I thought I was well behaved and smart, but really I just didn’t understand that for every risk that I took along with a chance for something bad to happen, there was a chance for me to learn something new and challenge myself. I let my life shrink around me until it became so small, there was no room around me to breath.

I want to do something better for myself than that. I want to act, to leave something behind me after I leave, hopefully something of value. It’s not easy to make that choice to expend the effort from one moment to the next. to risk trying things for fear that I won’t be good at them, but each time I do it, it gets a little easier. I find myself getting absorbed and wanting to elaborate more on what I’m trying to say. To be more specific, more persuasive in my message. I want to write words that will make people sit up, act, think differently and just maybe take a few actions of their own so that they can share this feeling of being at the wheel with me instead of just following directions.