Today I received a rare gift: encouragement
He was selling me books at a farmers market stand – these, to be exact:
We chatted about books and how writing was so much richer years ago when he said:
“You must be a writer then. Why don’t you come back next year and bring me your book to read?”
He was in earnest. He truly believed that I could write a book after conversing with me for 10 minutes, and in that moment, so did I.
Just like that, he brought it all back. My love of writing, of putting into words beautiful truths or sentiments that just sound hollow when I awkwardly try to voice them. One kind word from a stranger reignited the desire to be creative, to do this because I loved to do this, not to be pretentious.
That may be what scared me most – the fact that, although I have stories to tell, I didn’t want to impose them on others or promote myself.
At the end of the day though, writing is the only way I can be completely honest. It’s like a deep, lung-cleansing breath after living in a shallow hiccup.
With that, I’ll jump back into the other thing that makes me happy: traveling!
See you soon, fellow wanderers.