Thinking Too Much

It’s amazing the realizations you can come to in a chat room.

The other night, in the middle of an otherwise random conversation, someone asked me a question I’ve been asked a million times in some form or another.

"So, are you a writer?"

Normally, I quickly answer, "Yes," and the conversation moves on from there.  The other night though, for a reason I’m not sure I’ll ever know, I hesitated.  I stared at the words until they were pushed off my screen by more random conversation.

"So, are you a writer?"

It used to be that no matter how many different ways I was described by people, I was always a writer.  Sports fanatic, writer, good guy….Writer, computer geek, goofball….Quiet, reliable….

Writer.

The other night, it seemed, it wasn’t that simple.

I finally answered the question with more words than I ever had before.

"I am.  But, it’s been so long since I’ve done any actual writing, I’m not sure I can still claim the title."

I’ve always believed that doing something once or twice doesn’t mean that’s what you are.  Someone who has tried cigarettes once or twice is not a smoker.  Someone who occasionally shoots hoops at the Y is not a basketball player.  Someone who writes every now and then can’t be considered a writer. 

Can they?

I used to eat, sleep, and breathe writing.  It used to be there wasn’t a day that went by when I didn’t write something that at least bordered on creative….even if I eventually tossed it.  Sometimes, I’d spend entire days writing one thing after another.  It’s been a long time since I’ve had one of those days.  Don’t get me wrong, I still love writing.  It’s still in my heart.  But do you truly love something if you neglect it?

It’s not that I ever wanted to stop writing.  I guess I just have different priorities now.  There are things in my life now at which I do not want to be average.

I want to be a good husband.  After being married almost a year, the best I can say is it’s still something I’m getting the hang of.  Sometimes I feel like I take my wife for granted. 

I want to be a good friend.  I am blessed and honored to have a few people in my life that I call friends.  Sometimes, I feel like I let them down because I do not enrich their lives as much as they enrich mine.

I want to be a better person overall.  It’s not that I’m particularly horrible now…I just want to be better…at a lot of things.

So where does writing fit into all of this?

I don’t know. 

Maybe I’m writing this to figure that out.  Maybe I’m writing it because my wife has been giving me a gentle nudge lately to get back into it.  Maybe I’m writing it because writing is the only thing I’ve ever been good at and as much as I think it’s not a part of me anymore, the truth is that it’s just as big a part as it’s always been.

It’s what I am.