10/31/19-I’ll add the title at the end
It’s weird writing this, knowing one of the major motivations is to leave a written legacy. It seems more than a little perverse to share a journal publicly, and perhaps self-defeating.
I certainly won’t be able to be as honest and free writing with the hopes of it being read by millions as I’ve been in my private journals. But in doing so the direction I move should be towards unifying those situations. And the change in my mindset that would allow for that unification is the best possible result of this.
I think there are two mental modes that I think are best for journaling.
1) Stream of consciousness writing. Tapping into that creative, expressive flow state and learning what it is that you think by just watching your fingers move.
2) Thoughtful writing. Using journaling as an opportunity to materialize fuzzy thoughts. To toil over ideas and feelings and force yourself to find clarity through concise articulation.
By making this journal public, I’m naturally going to lean towards the second mode, because I’m far more comfortable sharing well thought out ideas. They feel more like my work, like something I can point at and say that’s what I’m capable of producing. That’s the potential I have inside me.
Stream of consciousness writing is much more visceral and scary to share. Because it feels much more like me. It’s something I can point at and say confidently if you really want to know who I am, there it is. It’s not the potential inside me, it’s past potential realized.
And in this moment, reflecting on my potential, and why that became the subject of this first journal entry, my stream of consciousness has paused. My fingers slowed to a halt, having ran into one of the mental walls called hard-truths.
For many years I haven’t lived up to my potential. Not even close. It’s a story I’ve heard so many times from my closest friends, family, and conscious. It’s one of those ideas that you reach and feel like there’s nothing left to say. All that’s left to do is do.

