I’VE BEEN CONTEMPLATING THIS FOR A WHILE NOW, since I left my job at the beginning of quarantine.

Do I strive to write for money, or do I continue to write strictly as a hobby, a passion, untainted by the lust to make writing my profession?

There’s no clear answer. Yet, today, I felt almost awakened by something in my heart and soul that said, go for it.

I love writing more than anything in the world. I can write all day like I did today, working on several projects, and still feel like I’ve run out of time. Writing grounds me; it’s how I explore my inner thoughts and how they relate to the world we live in.

Writing continues to teach me that with a pen and a pad, a set of eyes to observe, and a mind to think, I’m content. All I want is to get out there and explore.

Life is happening all around us. All we must do is step into it.

I’m dedicated to fulfilling my dream of becoming a travel writer, a storyteller, a creator; I feel I’m on this planet to discover all it has to offer and share that in a way that only I can.

Doing so makes me happier than anything else.

I love this planet we call home, and I believe traveling is the most enriching experience we can have. I want nothing more than to share my journey experiencing the world. That, I must make my career.

I’ve had jobs in the past where I didn’t feel challenged, like I was wasting the precious seconds of the day. I began to write to release some of the frustration I was feeling.

I couldn’t settle with doing something I didn’t care for all day to make money and do what I loved in the off-time. It just didn’t make sense. It still doesn’t.

If I were to take a job unrelated to writing, it would have to be something I cared about, a position where I would learn, grow, and become something more. This has recently felt like the right path to take since my dream of becoming a travel writer is on hold due to Covid.

I’m sick of that excuse.

Nothing happens in this world unless we make it happen. I’m ready to do so.