My message is for all, but especially for my son. As true as this may be, the reality is that I write for myself. When I was young, I often put myself into seemingly inescapable predicaments. I didn’t always know who to talk to. The solutions I was looking for were not found easily. In these times of great distress, pen and paper acted as magnets and drew me toward them. It was in the words that I found my therapy. It was a haven to freely express what was in my mind.
Although writing was instrumental in the dark times, it took years for me to realize its value when things didn’t appear so bleak. Through this medium, I found both a greater sense of direction and purpose. Words on paper was a means to prevent the lethargy that comes with comfort.
Write to please just one person.
Kurt Vonnegut
Of course, my words are intended as a message for all who would read them. But I cannot do this when I am at odds within. The writing gives me pleasure because it brings me into alignment with my soul. It brings me closer to harmony with the universe. Yes, it is a message for all. But in the end, it is ultimately for me.