Aspire to Inspire

It has been nearly two years since I wrote, really wrote something. I realized the vacancies inside myself were waiting to be filled by words, by thoughts, by lessons, by stories.  And so I did what only I could do: I picked up the pen and began to write.  I can't guarantee that I will post something on a weekly basis but I am motivated in the right direction.

Here is to the first entry after a long hiatus on Aspire to Inspire:

Each of us are born with a gift, but no matter how innate our gifts are, they do not flourish on their own; they take constant work, effort, and dedication to be developed into something useful and beautiful for us and the rest of humanity.

Gifts give us a reason for living, they instill passion, they produce hope, and when we are not giving our gifts to others and more importantly ourselves, we are living the unlived life.  

Using countless excuses of allowing myself to feel "jaded" by life, allowing circumstances, exhaustion, or much less productive activities to "steal" any free time I may have left in a 24 hour period, has resulted in the suffocation of my gift(s).  

My gift came to me when I was a little girl via pen meets paper.  Adventures developed into thoughts, thoughts developed into words, words developed into stories, and stories became my life.  My life is one big tapestry of words strung together to create moments worth remembering and moments worth forgetting.  I am all of who I am today because of my stories, and it is through those stories wherein I know that writing is to me like breathing is to us all: giving sustenance and life.  Writing has often been my priest—my go to confessional that leaves me feeling a little less weighted down, a little more relieved, a little more rejuvenated and motivated to live a better life.  

Writing is my gift.  

When I am not writing I am not living. And so although I may not be able to change my certain set of circumstances which prevent me from allowing myself any real time of "self-fulfillment", I am going to choose to stop living the unlived life.  I am going to pick up the pen and write again.  Write about things—valuable, invaluable, random, incoherent—that actually mean something to me.  Because if I am not me, who am I?  I am just another person sitting on the sidelines waiting for SOMEONE to throw me the ball, to motivate me to run towards an anticipated reward . . . waiting, waiting, waiting, for THE RIGHT MOMENT, waiting for SOMEONE to induce action, when in reality life rarely gives you the RIGHT MOMENT, and SOMEONE rarely ever comes along.  The MOMENT is NOW and YOU are the SOMEONE.  

Here's to picking up the pen . . . here's to embracing the gift, here's to living a more fulfilled life.