I’ve thought for a long time about what would be a fitting first post for this blog. I wanted to make it something worthwhile, something meaningful. After all, this blog is not meant to be simply a demonstration of my ability to write, but a way for my readers — whether they read my fiction, nonfiction, or freelance work — to know me better.
This is it.
It’s easy to get so wrapped up in work, in the day to day affairs of life, that we lose sight of what it is that actually matters to us. It’s so tempting to make a choice because it’s easy, because it’s safe. We find ways to be content with those choices, but contentment is not the same as happiness.
We should never be content. The moment we accept our positions and place in life as good enough is the moment we cease to move forward. Still water stagnates.
Bruce Lee tells us to “Be like water.” Water moves around an obstacle. It searches for an opening, a way through, until finally it builds up enough that it flows over the top of what is in its way.
But to do this, there has to be a lot of water. If we are each one drop, what does that say about us?
It’s easy to become lost, especially in your twenties. Early in life, transitional periods are exciting: moving from middle school to high school, high school to college. Getting your license. Discovering your freedom once you’re out of college.
And then it becomes scary when you no longer have someone telling you where to go or what to do. When you’re forced to make the decisions yourself, knowing that you don’t really have a fallback plan, the consequences and weight seem so much greater than before.
When difficulties spring up in life, many of us have a tendency to take a step back, to look for a way around. When that path isn’t immediately obvious, we sometimes spend too much time looking and stop moving at all. We get stuck, unable to find a way around until someone (or a number of people) push us past the obstacle.
I like to work alone. I like to play tennis because it’s just me on the court. I don’t rely on anyone else. But when it counts, when it comes down to it, I’m not really alone, and neither is anyone else. There is always someone, somewhere, cheering you on, whether you know it or not.
Sometimes these people come from unexpected places. I recently met someone with so much energy and passion for life about them that it blew me away. More importantly, they reminded me that “to live” is a verb. It requires action.
We’re given 70 years on this planet, if we’re fortunate. 70 years to make a difference. And 70 years to live a life that’s worthy of legends.
Tick tock.
Patrick is a freelance writer, novelist, entrepreneur, and adventurer. Follow his travels at Voyager’s Quill.