What Drives Us

Why are we compelled to write? To read? To do anything? Why do we feel this driving need to make something of our lives? What is the point of it?

I don't have an answer. I don't think anyone really does, yet we keep doing it. We keep endlessly working toward it, with no idea where we are going or how we are going to get there. Yet we still have the dream.

We wake up early, stay up all hours of the night. Our passion drives us to complete this thing we are searching after. People tell us we are going to fail. We cannot possibly win. There are already too many people out there doing the exact same thing we want to do. Few of them succeed, but hundreds of them fail.

We don't listen, of course. We think that we will be the special ones. We will be the one to succeed. They don't know what they are talking about. They are just bitter because they had their chance and blew it.

Some of us do succeed. Some of us do quite well despite all the odds that are stacked against us. But then there are the unfortunate ones. The ones who listened to the criticism. Who gave up on the very thing that made them feel alive. That made them feel like they had a purpose on this earth.

Don't be one of the ones who gave up. One of the ones who listened to all the voices who said that they were wasting their time. Or one of the ones that tried a couple times and failed, and thought it must not be meant to be.

The only person who puts limits on yourself is you. I don't quite know why we are compelled to do the things we do but only that we are. 

Do the thing that makes your soul soar. Don't listen to anyone saying you can't do it or that you will fail. People love to say you'll never succeed. But you know you will. Don't let them crush your soul into a pale version of who you really are.

What is it that you are compelled to do in this weird, insane, beautiful world?