The trouble with marketing ourselves, as writers, is that it’s awkward. Like trying to use a computer mouse with our left hand.
We try to stay true to our convictions: to lead a more intentional life, to make conscious decisions and above all, to live slowly. But it seems as though, at this rate, many of us have sold the best parts of ourselves to consumerism, to trends, the good looking, popularity and prestige.
Where do I fall into this mess? Am I floundering?
We want to reach the right readers and to connect with them, but we can’t do that without desperation.
With desperation, the presence of substantial exchanges dwindles, and superficial relationships increase.
We want to preserve our humility, but at what cost when we’re constantly seeking gratification?
How must we value our principles when the world around us tempts us to behave otherwise? To be more?
We want to know where to draw the line without having known that we’ve already crossed it.
Is it important that we know this is rewarding enough, or better to accept that nothing ever is?
Most of the time, we find ourselves deciding how to feel. So, we contradict what we say, adjust our consciousness, reassess our priorities and fail to uphold this lofty decree we’ve always strived for.
It takes a lot from us to challenge our beliefs, deny them even, just to make it; it takes even more energy to absolve ourselves thereafter.
The point is to get through it.
The point is to understand that should there be moments of striving and achieving, there will come episodes of reprieve and restoration.