Remember Middle School? Remember High School? I have a collection of memories from both of them where I can recall only a few things that I enjoyed and a ton that I really did not enjoy.
Consistent themes of angst, anxiety, and some strange form of psychosis probably top the list during those periods of time. I did not love those periods of my life nor did I really love who I was as a person (does anyone, ever?).
I can distinctly remember feeling completely uncomfortable in my own skin, as they say, and simultaneously pining some unknown loss of my youthful ignorance (i.e. bliss) and begging for the day when I would be beyond this mess of an age and into some more stable form of self-acceptance.
I had no idea it would take so long.
I have such a predisposition to act that can be incredibly annoying to those that have to deal with me on the daily – in fact, I think I might have landed on my tendency to move things forward as a super-power.
Of course this name badge for last night’s event (great job Jake – killing it!) was somewhat tongue-in-cheek-but-not-really as I realized that if I was going to provide any value it would probably be simply encouraging people to act and move forward with their great idea with a bit more confidence than what they had before they met me.
This is not a blog post announcing the untimely death of yet-another-app but rather a few random thoughts that have been piling up in the back of my head over the past few months.
The question is simply this: When do you know when to quit?
I thought I had all of these answers pretty set since I’ve done this a few times but every situation is different and especially the context in which those conversations are had changes every single time.
The point is that it’s always hard to know when to quit, even when you’ve got your back against the wall and the firing squad is moments away from blowing you away.
I’ve been writing and publishing to my blog like a mad man this year. It’s incredible to think I have published nearly 200 posts this year already on my own blog and we are only at day 134 of the year. Pressgram has been a huge help with that. My goal is to do 500 posts on my blog this year. At least 365 will be from Pressgram. As overwhelming as it gets to push myself to keep writing and keep on publishing, it’s something I am glad I am investing my time into. The time I spent writing and creating this is much more rewarding than anything else I have encountered.
Writing has gone beyond a habit. It has become ritual. Something that I find strange comfort in each day.
I can honestly say that making the choice to call myself a writer was when this jump really happened. It pushed me to stop whining and to actually write my first book. It wasn’t my first book idea, but it was the first one I had a great focus on. It was something I knew could help others in a big way. It wasn’t as abstract as my first idea.
Ideas are a funny thing. I am told that having too many ideas is a good problem, but quite honestly I have a hard time picking one. And even when I dive into the one I choose I start to regret it at times. There is always going to be trial and error when you create something. It’s inevitable.
As much as I hate it, I love it.
Calling myself a writer and continuously publishing has really given me a new spirit. A spirit that doesn’t want to quit and no longer lingers in regret when I start things. All endeavors seem to harvest a lesson even if they fail and I’m ok with that now.
What has Pressgram done for you and your human spirit?
We all have one. Do you know what yours is?
Of course you know what it is but have you ever really thought about for more than just a second? And perhaps of equal importance can you communicate your origin story in a way that makes sense, that is clear, that highlights the more important moments in that story?
Have you ever wondered why you hesitate on building, designing, and crafting it? I believe it’s because we are scared – scared that it’ll appear too normal or too boring for others to care or take notice. I wonder if this is why we’re so afraid of starting new things.
Setting out my clothes for a trip.
Medicine. Must have my meds…
More clothes for the day!
Being an autist is a daily challenge on a number of different levels, one of which is getting dressed.
As funny as it might sound I actually have my wife help me with this as she provides not only cursory suggestions but also full outfits for me to wear so that I can be at least presentable to the general public.
If it were entirely up to me I’d look homeless – no joke.
I am a slide.
The local fountain near 465.
The work that my wife does as a mother is really incalculable. I have tried to parent these two by myself when she’s been gone or sick and it’s really, really hard; more difficult than the growing demands of any of my startups.