Writing has always been easy for me. Since I was young, the many words that flow from my mouth pour forth just as easily through my pen. Mother still has one of my first writing assignments on file and it’s not half-bad. You’d find it charming.
Typing all day as a web developer gives me the illusion that I write many things, day-in and day-out, but when I look back over the past twelve months, I find only sparse notes and half-completed thoughts where articles, essays, and book outlines should have been.
In the spirit of making commitments that I’m not sure I will be able to keep for the next twelve months: I want to write more in 2018. Not because I need a New Year’s resolution, not because I need more to fill my time, not because my words have any specific power. I need to write more because it’s how I keep the voices at bay – the past several months of high stress at work have shown me how much I need this outlet.
This year, I hope to contribute my pen several online outlets, ranging from these little musings to a family business that I have been waiting my entire life to work on with my wife. I say this here, now, in plain view of any search engine or archive that wishes to preserve these words, as a reminder to myself about how much I need to revive this habit. The only loss to not keeping this resolution is would be own waning sanity, but the potential benefit for keeping it is health and wholesome living for both me and those around me.
I have much to speak about, much to be grateful for, much to share from the slice of life I’ve lived this far. Perhaps in another twelve months I’ll look back and see these words, glad that I took a moment to publish a trite little update that somehow relieved the pressure from the past year.
Writing comes easily, which is why I don’t do more of it. It’s a sad-but-true detail you may not have wished to learn, but it’s the truth, so I have to tell it. Stephen King once said, “If God gives you something to do, why in God’s name wouldn’t you do it?” He’s right. Time to write.