I call myself a creationist because with 100% of my being I undoubtedly believe that that is why I was brought to life. That is the purpose behind my existence. If I am not bringing something more to this world, I am not happy- nor do I feel truly alive.
If you know me at all, you know that for almost five years now I've poured my heart and soul into blogging, and for almost 20 years into everything else I've done. More than anything though, I've forced myself into simply.. well.. being. Just being.
When I was eight years old, standing in front of a crowd presenting my first published piece of poetry, that was when it really hit me. That was when I first saw the looks on faces of readers and believers. That was when they nodded at me and laughed and I instantly felt at peace. That was also when I made the promise to myself to always. keep. creating.
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Maybe it has to do with the fact that I was raised by artists.
My dad went to art school and has been a photographer ever since. And my mom? She's a writer.
My dad went to art school and has been a photographer ever since. And my mom? She's a writer.
I'll never forget what it was like when my mom would work from home, sitting at her computer trying to form sentences over and over and getting frustrated when the words just didn't spill out quite the way she wanted. A reporter, a journalist, a word-artist, whatever you want to call her- she's always writing.
As a kid, when we would go to restaurants as a family or even on errands, I tended to get very bored in the back seat. My parents would talk about work and about life- all I could do was stare out the window and think. I was a kid, I couldn't relate to their stories. I couldn't tell them about my life because they knew everything already.
But there was one thing that saved me, and one thing that is probably the biggest reason why I'm a writer myself now.
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My mom always carried a pen and a notebook. Anywhere she went. Anywhere.
If my restlessness bothered her or my dad, they would hand those things to me and that was that. I filled notebooks. Words, drawings, everything. Anything that was in my head was pulled out and pushed onto those pages.
Somewhere along the line, I started making the conscious decision to turn to notebooks and to writing on my own. I fell in love with words. Through the best and worst days of my life, writing was there whether or not people were. Writing has continued to keep me humble and encouraged me to embrace being human ever since.
The thing is, for me, living is easy. Living is just what I do without thinking. That much was never even up to me. Coming into this world was not a yes or no option. I was just born, and I've been living ever since.
The hard part is being alive. Feeling things, being vulnerable, stumbling up the porch steps, waking up alone, making friends, losing them, working 9 to 5's, finding the right jeans, falling in love, remembering to pay bills on time, drinking too much, building a good resume and getting enough sleep.
So. Self:
Image credit: Randy Tobias Photography
Future me, you will surely struggle through the complexity of life. That much is expected. But please remember the three word promise you made to yourself. Please remember to continue to stay truly alive rather than to just live.
ALWAYS. KEEP. CREATING.
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note from the author:
In addition to keeping this blog running, I am BEYOND thrilled to tell you that as of right now, my first mini-collection of poetry is officially in progress!
"Mother Nature, I Am Hungry." - a collection of poems, thoughts, and notes to the universe.
Coming soon, (I hope!) and I can't wait to share it with you.
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