why I write

To showcase the non-crazy, non-garbage part of my mind.

To leave a legacy, so that my words have the chance to comfort and heal people even after I’m dead, hopefully.

To get the words out of my system, because there are so many that it’s overwhelming at times.  They’ve got to go somewhere.

To give inspiration access to me.

In an effort to help others and myself.

To be part of the solution.

Because there’s always the chance that I’ll die today (hope not), and I don’t want to die with the words still in me and not out there.  What a waste that would be.  If the words have the potential to be helpful, why not share them?

Because life is precious and not to be wasted.

Because my writing hand is wiser than I am.  It thinks of things I could never think of.  The act of writing brings the most truth out of me.  If I write down a false thought it immediately looks false to me, whereas if I kept it in my head, it’s much easier for it to lead me into the previously mentioned garbage-mind.

As an intellectual and emotional release.

Because I can and must.

Which brings me to a bigger point… the reason anyone has ever done anything is because they had to.  As Byron Katie puts it, “It’s their job.”  That is the truth that has given me the most freedom of all.

Writing out of necessity,


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