It's taken nearly eight decades, but I've finally found my perfect calling. I was meant to be a journalist, a writer, a master of the written word. It's my natural bent and calling. Maybe I could have gotten there quicker taking a different route. Who knows? If I'd gone to a different college and studied journalism instead of theology, what might have transpired?
The experiences certainly would have been different. Maybe I wouldn't have the same insight I feel I now possess. I could be better off financially or worse off. I'd probably be living somewhere else or maybe long dead from natural or unnatural causes. Familial and marital circumstances would have been different. Etc. Etc.
It's sort of like thinking about a parallel universe, which I don't think can exist as so many imagine. The history in parallel universes would go so differently, that the human race might not even exist, let alone a parallel of you or me. Take billions of years and the crapshoot of happenstances beyond measurement, and the possibilities are beyond comprehension.
The important thing is that I did get here in this universe as my unique self and that's the only important reality I have to, or can, deal with.
I used to wonder how syndicated authors could continually write interesting pieces that just seemed to flow like water on such a regular basis. Now, I know. I'm doing it myself -- right here on this blog and Facebook! There comes a time when a writer like me is so filled with the urge to say things that they will be compelled to do so if an avenue opens up.
It's taken a lot of living. A lot of experience. Never ending study and learning. Much heartache and emotional trauma. An ocean full of water under that proverbial bridge.
I just can't stop myself now. This is the interest of my life. The good thing about it is that I can do it as long as I have a computer and the mental capacity and manual dexterity to type on it. It all came to be in my lifetime, thanks to technological geniuses who did what they were born to do.
Thank you all!