My wife told me today she wished I’d write more stories or edit more instead of paying attention to the blog.
I’ve wanted to be a writer and have my life mean something to the world and not just to those around me. The belief that my life needs to mean something is something which was instilled in me by my grandmother and my aunt.
These two people always told me I could do anything with my life, they’re the only people who from a young age said those words to me. I remember sitting in bed, sick from some childhood ailment and my grandmother saying, “you have to get better, you mean something.”
Those words have fallen away from me at times and I forget them and when I do the world decides that I need a reminder that I mean something.
Maybe my grandmother was saying something to a sick kid or maybe she was saying it to me, a grandson she thought would be something in the world, do something that only he could do. I write for that reason.
I want my writing to mean something, not just to me, but to the world. I want it to be something that lasts forever, not just in a blog post I wrote because I felt I needed to write some drivel about my childhood. I want it to be something to last, for the world to read it and remember who wrote it.
The only way I can do that is by abandoning the blog. I put a lot of time an effort into this blog, but anymore I feel like I should be “Getting better, because I mean something.”
For the future I’m taking the blog one week at a time. For the present I’ll be writing more, enjoying the craft and loving myself more. For the past I’ll be locking it away.
I no longer need to focus on the past or the future. I prefer to live my life for the present and my present involves a lot of writing