Because there's a Seeker born every minute...
I am not a writer. I know that. That you may be reading this now is more a testament to my stubbornness than any creative talent I might possess.
It has been a couple of weeks since I’ve posted anything. In that time I’ve written no fewer than 4 posts, on a wide variety of topics. One was about a recent trip to Stockholm. Another was on growing up poor. I wrote a post about my first few weeks in college. They all suck.
The battle begins as it always does. I sit down, roll my chair close to the edge of my desk, turn on the lamp, grab my pen and stare down at the first page of a pad of paper. Like two samurai facing each other silently in the rain, weapons drawn, we begin.
I have been a computer geek most of my adult life. There are few things in my professional life that a computer couldn’t make better, easier and faster. However, during the holidays late last year, my wife and I stumbled upon a small ink and paper shop in Asheville, NC. On a lark, we each decided to purchase an entry level fountain pen. I immediately fell in love with the concept of writing with this pen. After decades of typing everything, the nostalgia of writing things down with a fountain pen, of taking time to compose my thoughts, became almost an obsession for me. I began handwriting meeting notes again, then I started journaling. All because of this darned, inexpensive fountain pen!
In late 2016 I was struggling a bit. Life was moving along OK, but I felt like I wasn’t doing anything productive or creative. Things were just too mundane, I wasn’t learning anything or challenging myself in any way. I was just going through the motions.
