I still remember the day I knew I wanted to be a writer.
Thirteen. Fingers trembling over our family’s white-polycarbonate, 2006 MacBook. I wrote one sentence.
As Sean walked, he could hear the pounding of his metallic boots through the gravitized hallway.
I’ve remembered that sentence since the moment I wrote it. I ran to my sister, pushed her face to the screen, and witnessed her reaction.
We still reference it today in jest, and after years of denying my creative yearnings, masking the art I always meant to create, I cherish this sentence so closely as inspiration and the purpose for my life and the work I want to do.
I believe I was designed- created for this, as I believe that every person was designed with a primal, distinctive purpose and work.
Victor Frankl wrote it better than I ever could (but I still write…):
“Everyone’s task is as unique as his opportunity to implement it... In a word, each man is questioned by life; and he can only answer to life by answering for his life.”