I spent a good part of yesterday staring out into space and thinking, “what am I passionate about?” Not, you know, “what can I make money doing?”
Just, “what am I passionate about?”
As it turns out, writing is apparently and singularly it.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Jesus, my fabulous wife and kids, and just boodles of other keen things in my life. For instance, I love saying certain words: keen, smurfy, tubular, tripendicular, neato, and bitchin’. Should I continue to write, you’ll read them all. Frequently. Getting back to the point, while I love these things, the focus of my introspection was around, “what can I do that I’m passionate about?”
And the one thing that I like to do, am pretty well at , and absolutely can’t make money at is writing. The part about no money is important. It’s very easy for me to spend an inordinate amount of time working and thinking and scheming and learning things that will help me make money. It’s a welfare thing. I’ve gone from having nothing, to excess, and now back to moderate. Regardless of the financial equilibrium du jour, my little brain adores relating effort to money.
Money doesn’t drive me, I don’t really obsess about it, but when it comes to the things that I do, I typically prioritize based on income potential.
Hence, writing. No money to make, and no money I’m looking to make. I’m writing because I need something that I can just do, with no goal other than just doing it. I am not a “journey” guy by any means. The destination is all that matters to me. But, in spite of my firmly wired nature, I’m looking to enjoy doing something that doesn’t need to go — rather — arrive anywhere.
It sounds really peaceful.
Hello, and wish me luck!