The express purpose of this blog is to craft one hundred essays by the end of 2025. When I first began this journey part of me worried that I would soon run out of topics about which to write. But the opposite is true. The more essays I write the more topics with which my mind overflows, brimming over to the written word. Today we will talk about the changes in my thinking which have occurred since I committed to reading and writing daily.
The first step on this journey was a recognition of my own poor habit choices. I was lost in a world of YouTube, video games, and overeating. I was also alone, very alone with my only contact being people on Discord. It was a dark year. But within that pain grew a desire to build a life that I would enjoy. A life that I could live each day with peace, excitement, and satisfaction. When the darkest of days came I channeled my frustration into saving for a home. Fighting against my complacency, I pushed against the forces that prevented my home ownership and finally succeeded in securing my first home. But what to do with such an abode?
My first step was to eliminate all forms of passive media. I disallowed myself from purchasing a television, uninstalled all my video games, and canceled my YouTube subscription along with deleting my Tinder account. If I were to live alone I would live alone. No outside contact except for text based communication with those I already knew in real life. I would not browse the internet looking for attention from strangers or swiping on women I deemed attractive enough to speak with. I hate our modern culture and despise our lack of ability to focus, create, and care for one another.
What to do with the mountains of silence I had purchased for myself? I still had all the same needs that I was attempting to meet before. I wanted connection, conversation, engagement, and stimulation. I resolved that I would have to earn each of those things through patient effort. At first, it hurt to read and I could only do so with plenty of caffeine and nicotine. Writing was in a sorry state as well. I hadn’t written anything beyond a stream-of-consciousness journal in years. And I still am miserable at descriptive writing – painting a picture with words is still my weakest area of writing. And anything long-form.
But I could argue. I had opinions pouring out of me. You don’t live for twenty-nine years without figuring out a thing or two. I won’t pretend I “know it all” but I know enough to keep my head above water. And furthermore, I know that nothing is known but what is written. When I write, I extend the reach of my thoughts many thousands of times further than my loudest speech. It doesn’t really matter if anyone reads it or not. To write for an audience is an exquisite exercise. Journaling is private, sacred, and crude in its disorganization. When you know that someone, anyone might be reading your work it changes you.
I write only what I am willing to have reflect back on my career. Most of what I write, therefore, is filtered and shows only the best side of me. In the beginning this was an act of discretion. Yet, I discovered, as you write more and more in the way in which you want to be seen, you become what you want to be. You can observe this if you read all of my articles from start to the present. My first article is a decree to become a better man with clear prescriptions on how to find a partner. But somewhere around the tenth or so article Christ showed me that I no longer needed to pursue a partner with all my heart and effort.
By writing daily I already felt heard, seen, and understood. No one leaves comments but I’m learning it doesn’t matter. When I see even a single viewer on one of my articles my heart leaps. It tells me that, at the very least, I chose an adequately provocative title which drew someone in. I’m glad that I tempted someone to pick up reading again. Reading for no reason at all. Reading to pass the time. Reading to reinforce writing. Writing reading reading writing. What a joy.
I don’t know which number article this is. It’s not helpful to count each article because I often un-publish some of them if I don’t believe they will reflect well on my career. I am, however, always willing to risk embarrassment or loss of job prospects to preach Christ. You probably picked that up if you came from LinkedIn. So, I don’t count articles. Instead I am shooting to write one essay each day on a novel topic but I’m not too picky with myself about what those topics are. I just need words. Words words.
I am both intrinsically and extrinsically motivated to write. Inside of myself I feel a change happening. I am more confident, my diction is more appealing, my rhetoric more relaxing. And externally, I know that my brain itself is changing and being molded as I type each sacred discrementation of my mind. As I shovel meaning out of gray matter. I hope that I become, in time, with each push of the publish button, more capable of listening, of waiting to speak, and of speaking only life, truth, and joy.
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