Don't Write for Fame, Wealth, or Power

There's a much better reason

Photo by Hannah Busing on Unsplash

It took decades to find my voice. I didn’t really understand that it wasn’t just mine that mattered until recently.

I’d been journaling for years…

• spiral-bound notebooks

• Microsoft Word files dating back to the late 90s

• platforms like Blogger and LiveJournal (remember those?)

I didn’t have the guts to share any of it, though.

It was all private. Personal. Secret stuff that I thought would make people run for the hills if they knew what I REALLY thought of the world.

It’s ironic that’s the space where nearly all my best writing comes from.

You wanna know what brought about the shift?

Starting in my 20’s, I began to lose loved ones and mentors.

• my grandparents during graduate school

• my second Tai Chi master of a heart attack last year

• my grandmother-in-law in an untimely fall in her home

And recently, my father and wife also had close calls. Don’t even get me started on my boys and their attempts to defy gravity via trampolines and dogs.

After a certain point in life, Death doesn’t loom. It makes its presence known. Neither menacing nor inviting, just a reminder of the inevitable…something I didn’t truly appreciate until I hit 40:

Your time is finite. Your journey is unique. Your memory is fleeting.

That’s what I realize now.

The true burden of the living is that you must appreciate and respect its arc. You either move forward with losses with or collapse under the strain, but the weight only increases with time. With each connection you gain, whether in real life or in the digital space, that load increases…

And you must choose to carry them, each of them, within you.

You are the living legacy of everyone that loves you.

You embody the lessons, the laughter, the ambitions—the hope of those who choose to support you.

Regardless of how you share your thoughts and ideas, you have an obligation to become a source of wisdom. You are the prism refracting the light of your mentors, family, and community.

Your “digital heirloom” is not just your story. It includes all those passed down and entrusted to you.

You’ve got a choice. You can reflect on it and grow in your own way. You can hide it from others like I once did, fearing judgment. Or you can project it into the world, splitting it into a thousand colors.

Iterate on your message and improve yourself by sharing with others.

Achieve fulfillment with intentional execution.

Reconnect with your identity.