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Inspiration For When You Don’t Know Why You’re Writing
Another day, another 5am wake-up.
It’s still not even 7am, and here I am, sitting down at my desk to write.
It’s only just beginning to get light outside. I can make out the shadowy outlines of the houses and trees in view, but no details have emerged from the darkness yet.
So why am I here? What am I doing, anyway? I could be sound asleep right now, cozy and warm in bed under my big, thick comforter.
But I’m not. I’m here, in the room I’ve turned into my office, staring at a blank computer screen. Why?
Some mornings, I don’t know why, other than “because I made a commitment.” I told myself that I was going to do this for one whole year (this being waking up at 5am, doing my morning routine, writing a minimum of 1,000 words a day, and publishing an article on Medium).
I told myself I would do it, for no other reason than I finally got sick of not doing it.
This Is The Year
A few days ago, I turned 30. And even though I’ve written about age being just a number, reaching this milestone meant something to me. It motivated me in a way that no birthday whizzing by in my 20s did. 29 just didn’t seem to have the same amount of reflective power as 30.
