Writer, Dad, Tired

I pride myself on not remembering much from high school, but one thing has remained with me. A banner, above the whiteboard of some English class, that read, “You’re a writer, not the savior of the universe.”

That quote had me in my feelings for many years. It couldn’t be true because I was going to be a pervading voice of my generation. People would find their truth in my words.

Yes, for a time, I was insufferably deluded.

But I was also bold and intrepid. I rode a wave of self-certainty to NYU, where I spent four years learning how to do what I loved most from some of the best in the world.

It didn’t bring me what I thought it would. I wasn’t discovered. I didn’t make The Black List. The writing workshops never led me to actual writer rooms. I never hoisted a gold statue and felt it all come full-circle.

I did, however, meet my best friends. My world broadened, along with my lens of it. I met my wife in the most impossible of ways. This is our awesome son! I hoist him a lot.

It wasn’t what I expected, but it brought me closer to myself. Surveying the rising action and standing atop the midpoint, my thoughts on writing have changed.

I understand that banner now. It’s not about revealing your truth—that’s your job. It’s about showing you mine.

Perhaps we feel some of the same things, and maybe that helps us feel more connected. Maybe we take that feeling of innate spiritual connection out into the world, and make it a little bit better for this guy and your guy (or girl).

I’m waxing poetic, but believe me, the first draft was worse.

That’s really all I’ve got. Head over to my Work Portfolio to see how I lock in for my livelihood, but stay tuned for more content about things I love and ruminate on.