Writelife

What is my purpose? I don’t think I have one. I don’t think anyone has one, really, not in the sense of being born with a set of instructions on what you’re supposed to do with your life. Purpose is something we give ourselves. Though I don’t think it’s quite as arbitrary as that sounds.

I think it’s partly something we consciously and deliberately impose on our lives but this comes about, in part, by how our lives have evolved – genetics, environment, experience and so on.

And what prompted this bit of burbling?

Through Neil’s blog I came across Colleen’s blog, Communicatrix, and an intriguing post Wherein we explore, a year into the process, exactly what the hell a "communicatrix" is supposed to do.

She asks the question, “So…why am I here? And what the hell should I do with my life, or what’s left of it?”

Well, I’ve been asking that question for quite some time. Which is why this blog, Writelife, has been going to the dogs recently. Actually, even the dogs are disinterested in it.

I could ramble, and likely will, at some point about why this is so. Basically, I’ve a sense of everything being stalled (which is likely just me being stalled). I think it boils down, at least in part, to having been doing the same damn thing for too damn long. I mean, how much writing for the Web can you do? How much can you talk about it before you just start saying the same things over and over?

It’s not that I’ve lost interest in the Web and technology. But there’s a helluva lot more to life and the world than those things and I feel a little too shoe-horned into these right now.

Anyway … I went and started up a Squidoo account. Out of curiosity. We’ll see what that leads to.

(I don’t know why, but you’ll see in the way this post begins how I have an obsession with tossing in all the links that lead me to whatever it is I’m babbling about.)

Tag: Career, Purpose, Writing, Squidoo

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