THE ORIGIN OF THE WORDS meaning Earth derive from a time when humans didn’t know Earth was a planet, rotating on an axis, orbiting around a great ball of fire.

They just looked down at the dirt, as the name for Earth in every language has something to do with the ground.

Earth in English comes from its Germanic origin, erde, the ground. In Japanese, the word for Earth is chikyuu, combining the kanji characters that relate to land, and round.

We still use these words with ancient origins, although now we know what we truly are, right? We think we do: creatures on an ancient rock, floating in boundless space. But paradoxically, it’s as if the knowledge of our reality has blinded us to the incomprehensible nature of it.

We don’t see each day as a miracle because this world is all we know. We still have to pay taxes. We still feel human pain; yet maybe for a second, as you read these words, you ask:

Why?

Everyday life interferes with this question, when instead, everyday life should be inspired by it.

How? By tapping into the greatest mystery of all: you.

We spend our lives trying to fit into a world that doesn’t make sense instead of looking up to the stars and asking, how do I stand out?

We all comprise the blade of bones, limbs, flowing blood and a beating heart. Match the brilliance of our condition by sharpening the edge of the blade you’re made of.

Your edge makes you different — your edge is why you’re here — for while it isn’t exceptional to be one out of nearly eight billion humans on Earth, it is exceptional to be you.

The adventure of your life is to discover why.

Throughout my journey as a writer so far, I’ve struggled to find my place. I compare myself to other writers around the same age as me.

Damn, I haven’t been published in big magazines like other travel writers on Instagram. I haven’t won awards like the edgy young poets.

Recognition and awards aren’t why I do this. But I’m human, and I fall prey to the same traps of jealousy and comparison as anybody. I question if I’m doing something wrong.

But I’ve also realized that I don’t just live to write. I write to understand what it means to live. Right now, I express this spirit of curiosity mostly through first-person, long-form storytelling. It’s what I love.

My style hasn’t yet found a home besides on my blog, and in my first book, Arrows of Youth.

This scared me when I was starting out. But over the years, as I’ve taken in books and wisdom from those I look up to, I’ve realized that it’s a gift to not know where you fit.

That doesn’t mean it’s easy. Yet often, the greatest gifts life can give us come in the guise of a setback, a challenge, a worthy problem.

What these challenges provide is a chance to grow, for as the world burns we step into the flames; as the world turns we sharpen our blade, shimmering with time in a way we couldn’t without that fire.

It’s no simple feat being human. There are pressures, norms, expectations. We’re social creatures who want more than anything to feel accepted, worthy, loved.

We sacrifice our true nature to achieve this, living in fear of what the world thinks of us. I’m afraid too — but what is there to be afraid of? We are infinitesimal compared to the cosmos.

Yet gazing at the sky on a cold and clear night, we feel its endless breadth within.

We feel able to expand beyond norms and expectations, beyond the masks and the fear, and when there’s nobody there to listen, nobody to judge, when it’s just us amongst twilight and what’s always been, we realize we can.

Be courageous. Step out of line. Ask questions about why things are the way they are and sincerely pursue what you want to pursue.

What you might believe is a negative trait, a setback or a peculiar interest may very well be your edge. Lean into it.

I’ve found that the more I do, the more confidence I feel in my skin and in my purpose.

said the philosopher Henry David Thoreau.

That is what I fear, not being alone or looking like a fool, but that my soul softly yearns to leap, to wander, to soar; what I fear more than the whisper is that the yearning’s no more.

Don’t let life dull the blade that is you.