I live in a resort area where people generally work a whole lot of jobs in the summer—when said jobs are available—and take the winter off to pursue more creative activities. What this means is that when people meet, they generally don’t ask each other what they do, as it’s assumed that what one does is very different from who one is.

I guess I’m the exception to that rule. I am a writer. It’s not just what I do to earn a living, it’s who I am.  

Perhaps this is true for all artists. Perhaps painters see everything through a paintbrush, photographers through a lens. What I know is that when I’m not working, I’m still thinking about it–about a turn of phrase, a character, a bit of dialogue. Plots come to me in the night, in the car, on a walk.

Don’t get me wrong: writing is still work. Hard work. No matter how much you love doing something, it still takes a lot of effort to get it done, to get it right, to revise and revise and revise until the result is something pure and beautiful and shining. Just because you feel inspired doesn’t always mean that you’re empowered!

But it does infuse the world with something special. Every trip becomes a research trip; every new person you meet, the opportunity to learn more about humanity—which, in turn, improves the way you can describe people, understand them, create stories around them. I don’t live a life that’s segmented into pieces: it’s all one seamless whole. I am a writer.

How about you? Are you what you do—or do you do who you are?

image: emre keshavarz for pexels