Why I Write

Just writing about me, rather than a trip I’ve taken, or a look I love, is a little uncomfortable, to be completely honest. But I realized lately that if you are following my blog, you know where I’ve been and what I like, but you don’t know why I write about it.

Truthfully, that’s something I’ve had to ask myself, too. Why do I rush to get home to my computer to write, even when that’s what I do at my job all day?

I think the answer plunges deeper than my love of words. You all know I love to write about travel, but there was a large stretch of time where I couldn’t afford to take a trip anywhere, really. Not that money is synonymous with happiness, because it’s not. But having means does offer you something specific in this world: choices.

After my parents split up when I was 14, we hit some pretty low depths of financial poverty. And you could say that choices were limited. The lights were cut off, the house foreclosed, and my family relationships turned to ash in my hands. I had always assumed I would go to college, but it didn’t look that way anymore. We didn’t have internet, so I would sit for hours at the public library researching how much college costs. How much living away costs. And then my heart would break all over again realizing how little I had.

But I remember, one day, reading an article about a far away island off the coast of South America. And I know this seems random and trivial, but the way the writer painted the beaches white and turquoise with his words made me feel as if I could taste the salt air. See, I hadn’t felt a break from the crashing waves of my life for months, and just that momentary respite from the reality of my life helped give me the hope to make plans. Plans against the odds. Plans that would drive me to reach for more than what others expected my life would become.

img_3119One of my favorite quotes, is, “A candle looses nothing by lighting another candle.” That writer whose article I “happened” (I’m not a big believer in chance) to stumble upon, helped light my candle that day, even if by just lending me a spark.

God has sent person after person into my life to help light my candle when the flame has glowed dim. So I write for Him- to show others, through my life, that his thoughts are higher than our thoughts. And I write for me- when my words are placed upon the page, no one can take them away from me. Then finally, I write to light a candle- even if it’s just one, or perhaps just a spark.

So that’s why I’m here, and why I write. Thanks for following my journey and letting me be a part of yours.

 

Sweet Dreams and Happy Travels! xoxo

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