Writing is work, but it’s also a gift. It’s a gift you get and then it’s up to you to develop it and give it back in the form of stories, poems, songs, essays, articles. But it also gives to you in often unexpected ways.

In my teens and twenties I had no clue how to figure out the world, so I didn’t try. I figured I could learn to write and I focused on that instead. And in the process I did learn a lot about life. I now have sixteen titles in print, more sold, and a fair grip on what life is about and my place in it. Many things remain a wonderful mystery, and one of the things I’ve learned from writing is that that’s okay. You don’t have to have it all figured out for it to work anyway.

I’ve spent most of the last year writing my way back into my own life. A year ago I really wasn’t sure what I wanted to do next. I thought I’d start by finishing projects I’d started. Writing leads to clearer thinking, better understanding. New ideas. Those are the kind of gifts you can’t buy and other people can’t give them to you, either.

Writing can help you see who you are, what you’re doing here. If you’re very lucky and work very hard at developing the gift, your writing might help somebody else see who they are and what they’re doing here or get a tiny piece of understanding about life, something that helps them go on with what they’re doing.

Writing can help build confidence that spills over into other areas of life; see this article, which is also a fine piece of writing. http://www.nerdist.com/2009/04/confidence-theory/

So writing is a gift that keeps on giving. It’s a gift that makes you work hard, but work and life aren’t separate things. Work is a big part of life, of who we are. We’re not happy if we’re not doing something meaningful. I’m grateful for the gifts of work and writing.