I keep a journal. I'm not religious about it, but I do keep a journal when I can, or remember or feel inspired, which, truth be told, is not very often. I had a work colleague who, whenever he’d see me writing in my book he’d call me a “low tech blogger”. So, with this, my first post, I guess I’ve finally joined the 21st century.
I am a writer. At least that’s what I tell myself. Fake it ‘til you make it right? It seems this new platform of self-publishing is a macrocosm of the City of Los Angeles, whose residents are all in the movie business: everyone's got a script, a headshot, an idea... I think internet writing can be equated to that. We are all writers, or hoping to be one day. Many of us hope to be the next blogging phenomenon and procure a big book deal out of it.
All expression is good. So although most people will not be the next Julie Powell, their words will enrich the world at large by simply being available for all to read.
I am not in search of fame and money; though I am searching. What I am looking for is an answer, a purpose, a path. Sometimes, people in my position define this search as a search for “oneself” and although I respect their point of view, I already know where I am. I am here, writing this blog entry. No, what I am searching for is what the hell to do with this “me” that is writing to you. I need to know what direction to take, what to do, where to go, what to like. Truthfully, I change my mind about the answers to these questions multiple times a day. I have no path; except the one I’ve been on. I guess that humbly, if I were to define what my “type A” personality wants to know is: “what happens next?”
Interestingly, that is the one question I will never get the answer to. I am human, I don’t know the future, but sometimes I just want to know that I’ll be OK.
In less than two months, I am going to embark on a journey. I will be walking the “Camino de Santiago”. I am quitting my stable, boring and non-stimulating job. I am going to go and walk almost 500 miles and I am going to come back. That’s as far as I’ve got information-wise. Well, that and that I’m petrified.
President Obama says that this is a time for hope, and he’s right. I am hoping. I am hoping for a change. I am hoping for magic. I am hoping for adventure. I am hoping for some sort of wonderful metamorphosis to occur. I am hoping for a miracle. I am hoping to not be disappointed.
I am hoping to chronicle these next five months of my search. So, in addition to carrying my wonderful tree-killing journal, I will also be writing on this blog; boomeranging my queries into outer space and hoping that when they return they bring my answer back with them.
