The first writing project that I actually finished was a book about identity and esteem. Since finishing that book, writing seems hypocritical. It is so vain. In its most selfish form it says, “Here I am.” In its most altruistic form it says, “Let me change you.” I rarely feel like saying those things any more.
But I’ve spent a fair amount of time trying to figure out what I can do for this world and I am pretty sure that if I have a unique thing to contribute, it involves wrapping words around complex issues, taming them, making them softer and giving more people the opportunity to hold them comfortably and compassionately.
If this is my unique thing to contribute, there is little evidence of it. I have spent my life on a hundred different hobbies and a fairly interesting career, but I haven’t really written enough to find out if writing is a strength. So I’ll practice. Here I am.