I am not a writer.
I’ve been called many things in my life: Reader. Musician. Artist. Christian. Aspiring coffee snob. I’ve been known by a variety of titles: Daughter. Sister. Wife. Mommy. Aunt. Friend. Teacher. Project Manager. I’ve also been defined by a range of qualities: Creative. Introverted. Organized. Funny. Industrious. Snarky.
But, writer has never made the list. At least not in my own mind.
There are a lot of reasons not to write. Sometimes writing flows naturally. But more often it feels like holding down a pudding-covered, tantrum-throwing toddler for a decent haircut. Add to that the internal battle with the idea that I might not really have anything worth saying, compounded with the fear of being scrutinized by strangers. Why am I doing this again?!
To become something you are not, you must do it. It’s a shocking concept, I know! To become a reader, you must pick up a book and read it. And then do it again. And again. And again. Until you can’t remember a time when reading wasn’t a part of your life, nor imagine life without reading.
I can think about writing. I can aspire to write. But if I don’t sit myself down and actually write, those intentions are meaningless. If I have any chance in my lifetime of becoming a writer, perhaps even a meaningful writer, the first step in that direction is to put pen to paper…or in this case, fingers to keys. And keep plugging away at it.
It might not be pretty. It might not be worthy. But it will be something. And something today is a lot more than nothing yesterday. According to Mark Twain, “the secret to getting ahead is getting started.” I may find out writing isn’t “my thing.” But at least then I’ll know for sure. You may know sooner than I do. I’m finally ok with taking that risk.
I don’t often devote my time and energy to something without knowing why I’m doing it. It’s taken me awhile to figure out why I should write aside from attempting to develop a skill. I wholeheartedly believe that everyone has a story to tell. And sharing in the ordinary can foster the extraordinary. Perhaps by sharing pieces of my story — whether through the books I’m reading, the life I’m living, or the faith journey I’m exploring — you will find bits of inspiration in my ordinary that will become something extraordinary in you. And if you’ve read this far, maybe you’ll be willing to join me a little longer on this journey.
Start where you are. That’s the best place to start.
This is me. Starting.