Yesterday I ran into a quote that said, “The older I get, the less I care about what people think of me. Therefore, the older I get the more I enjoy life.” I’ve fallen prey to “caring what others think” a bit too much. It’s a yellow thing (see “The Color Code”).
As Holly and I strolled through the mall to people watch this weekend, I asked her about my “voice.” What do I stand for, is basically what I was asking. She suggested that rather than figure out my voice and then write, I ought to write, and in doing so find my voice.
So that’s what I’m going to do. I’ve been treating my posts and any of my words as “my babies.” There will no be no more of that. No more babies. No more guarding and filtering, filtering, filtering.
For the foreseeable future, I’m dedicating 3o minutes a day to writing. Maybe the 30 minutes will be in my journal, maybe it will be on twitter. Maybe it’ll end up on this blog, and maybe it’ll end up in a children’s storybook. Who knows, maybe it will even be sung. But I feel like it will be a good investment. For my thoughts to develop, for my friends to hopefully benefit by, and for my endeavors to take shape.
Maybe it’s part of my quarter-life crisis, but I want to leave a legacy. And I want to create a link with my past-Travis and my future one. And I have a haunting suspicion that this link will be made through my words.
And so, in this year, my Year 26, I choose to write!