Photo by Mantas Hesthaven on Unsplash
I’ve been contemplating a decision for a while now, since I left my job at the beginning of quarantine.
Do I strive to write for money, or do I continue to write strictly as a hobby, a passion, untainted by the lust to make writing my profession?
There’s no clear answer. Yet, today, I felt almost awakened by something in my heart and soul that said, go for it.
I love writing more than anything in the world. I can write all day like I did today, working on several projects, and still feel like I’ve run out of time. Writing grounds me; it’s how I explore my inner thoughts and how they relate to the world we live in.
Writing continues to teach me that with a pen and a pad, a set of eyes to observe, and a mind to think, I’m content. All I want is to get out there and explore.
Life is happening all around us. All we must do is step into it.
I’m dedicated to fulfilling my dream of becoming a travel writer, a storyteller, a creator; I feel I’m on this planet to discover all it has to offer and share that in a way that only I can.
Doing so makes me happier than anything else.
I love this planet we call home, and I believe traveling is the most enriching experience we can have. I want nothing more than to share my journey experiencing the world. That, I must make my career.
I’ve had jobs in the past where I didn’t feel challenged, like I was wasting the precious seconds of the day. I began to write to release some of the frustration I was feeling.
I couldn’t settle with doing something I didn’t care for all day to make money and do what I loved in the off-time. It just didn’t make sense. It still doesn’t.
If I were to take a job unrelated to writing, it would have to be something I cared about, a position where I would learn, grow, and become something more. This has recently felt like the right path to take since my dream of becoming a travel writer is on hold due to Covid.
I’m sick of that excuse.
Nothing happens in this world unless we make it happen. I’m ready to do so.
I’ve considered getting a job unrelated to writing because part of me believes I should dedicate myself to another craft, a new skill, to make writing a respite always to come back to. Furthermore, it would give me something to write about.
I don’t write for money. I write because the essence of who I am lies encrypted in these words; I’m able to express my character and connect with others through this ancient medium.
Writing is the culmination of everything I love about life — learning, portraying experiences and place, storytelling, studying history and philosophy, remembering our past, grabbing hold of the fleeting beauty of today.
I’ll gladly write for the rest of my life without making another cent.
But a career is part of becoming all we’re meant to be. Working imparts values that are essential to being a quality human, and I realize that. I’m tired of debating myself.
We have one life to live, and I’m not willing to settle. I’m going to continue putting my heart on the page because I must, and if I have the opportunity to make that my career, I will. It’s time to take action.
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