Xeno Hemlock

One day back in college, my English professor sat on the table in front of the class. She rubbed her nose and huffed, “Read the Harry Potter series. It has just been turned into a movie but you got to read the books. I highly recommend it. It’s so good.” She repeated the last sentence, stronger the second time around. “It’s so good.”

I didn’t read the books right away after her recommendation. It wasn’t until the second film hit the theatres when I found the first book in the house and, out of boredom, hastily read it. My sister had borrowed the first four books from our neighbor. With nothing interesting to do over the summer vacation, I thought why not read it. Little did I know I would not be able to put the book down. Page after page, chapter after chapter, and book after book, I had to keep going. My professor was right. It’s so good. Just like the rest of the world, I fell in love with J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series.

Now, I am not as in love with the Harry Potter series as I used to but its impact in my life can never be denied. The wizarding world had enamored and captivated me so much that it triggered old childhood memories when our family didn’t have spare money to buy the expensive toys that I wanted. I had to make the most out of my cheap plastic action figures (that you could buy for a buck), trading cards, pens and notebooks, and even the plants and rocks in our front yard. I made my own fantasy world where I could play for hours with my imaginary friends. The lack of expensive X-Men action figures and VTech didn’t matter. The Harry Potter series reminded me of that and my dream of becoming a writer was reborn.

A dreamer I became, and only a dreamer.

However, I didn’t do much after knowing the Wizarding World. Yes, I “wrote” my stories in my mind, the protagonists, the antagonists, the plot, the setting, and even the ending but I didn’t put them on (digital) paper. The most writing I did was a one-page Word document about the main series I was so fixated on at the time. It went nowhere and its digital whereabouts are currently unknown. My stories remained filaments of ideas stuck in my head for years, unfairly imprisoned by their creator who should’ve treated them better.

Why?

The answer could be attributed to several things. I wasn’t mentally and spiritually ready. I still had yet to get synchronized with my own self then. Social programming had me as its slave. I needed to learn more life lessons. I, this. I, that. With the gift of retrospection and introspection, I finally figured out why my dream amounted to nothing years after it was incepted. I wanted to be a writer because I wanted to be famous like J.K. Rowling. It wasn’t the right WHY? for me.

How fascinating can life be? If your eyes and mind are both open, you will see a grand design for your life. Things happen for a reason. Series of events are related to each other, no such thing as a coincidence. Every place you’ve been to, every person you’ve met, and everything you have done, they all have a purpose. I got sick so I pursued a healthier lifestyle. My progress at the gym mentally thought me I could overcome my fears. My heart got broken so I turned to blogging as my outlet. Blogging rekindled my love for writing and I began drafting my novel. My pursuit of learning about writing, life, and self-development introduced me to thinking and outlooks I haven’t been exposed to before.

One important thing happened that made my WHY? evolved. I found fulfilment when I received feedback about my written works. A mother and daughter with a strained relationship began talking again after reading one of my short stories. A few folks responded well with my positive thinking articles. Some expressed gratitude when I posted a guide on how to create a digital book. Providing value to people’s lives felt very good.

If you ask me why I want to be a writer now, I will tell you that fame is no longer the motivation. I have messages and stories to share, which I hope can inspire and motivate people out there. I want to continue providing value to other people’s lives. I want to make a difference in their world and to serve humanity with the way that I know how—writing.

The question is no longer “Why do you want to write?”. It became “Why are you put on this earth?”

My second life began, a life where I wake up everyday with so much zest. The mistakes and disappointments of the past no longer anchor me and the worry for the future doesn’t terrify me like it used to. Negativity and drama from people no longer have place in my life. They are all insignificant. They don’t aid my purpose and my mission. Time is only reserved for the essentials.

My favorite author Mark Twain said it best. “The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.”

Why were you put on this Earth?

Why?

A version of this post was originally published in 2014. Header photo by Ariel Paredes from Pexels.