Once upon a time, I was a girl who dreamed of becoming a writer—that is, for the purposes of this post, one I will define as someone who does writing as a fulltime profession, or at least has published a book. Since the time I was about 10 y.o., I had been an active campus […]
Tag Archives: Purpose
“Putting aside the need to earn a living, I think there are four great motives for writing, at any rate for writing prose. They exist in different degrees in every writer, and in any one writer the proportions will vary from time to time, according to the atmosphere in which he is living.” ~ George […]
“It is this life-long search for, and journey toward, meaning, that lies beneath all the surface changes we make in our jobs, occupations, job-titles, and careers during our lifetime. We want our work—increasingly—to reflect who we most truly are.” ~ Richard Nelson Bolles, The 1993 What Color Is Your Parachute? … As some of you may […]
I am doing neck stretches, giving my hands a quick shake, stretching my legs, doing a light jog-in-place. I am about to run. … I had always refused to call myself ambitious. Where I’m from, the term ambitious has negative connotations, like it’s synonymous to selfishness and a callous disregard for anyone else for the […]
There’s an anecdote of me as a child, that my mother used to tell me about over and over again. She said that when I was about 5 y.o., she and my father were watching me work on a coloring book. They were instructing me which colors to use (e.g. green for the leaves, blue […]
I have just survived one grueling week, in this grueling month which saw me report to work 17 out of 18 days thus far. Screw Saturdays and Sundays, this month said—you are going to finish what you started and not let go until you’re done. The most difficult thing about juggling two jobs, each with […]
As it may have been apparent in my previous post, 2016 saw me lose a lot of joie de vivre (French for ‘joy of living’ / ‘cheerful enjoyment of life’). I was utterly busy yet numbed, bored, and occasionally hopeless. The exhaustion left me very little to enjoy anything else. People tell me I work […]
I have the words shattered about me I have to pick them up and —steady— Line them up, one by one But the rhythm, it won’t find me. Is it the pace of this world, Is it the choices I’m making? I can’t quite place it But I must be missing something. I am spent […]
Every time I feel the impulse to blog about my personal life, I always feel a counter-impulse not to, because it feels unnecessary, tiresome, and self-indulgent. Like, who cares, right? The world has enough problems and riffraff without my adding to it. It’s the same way I often keep silent even when my brain is […]
At home It was Tuesday morning. I was getting ready to go to work. I was sitting motionless at the dining table, in front of a half-eaten breakfast. Beside my plate, I had set down a textbook on Cognitive Psychology, which is one of the, well, more mentally debilitating subjects in the field. I had […]
InkBlots and IceBergs 
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