The last time I blogged, I was participating in a 30-day challenge alongside friends. Obviously, the days stretched much longer that 30. There were only a few days left, but just as I saw the finish line, the next topic on the list sent me into months of silence because of the question it posed - "What would you be doing if you knew you wouldn't fail?"

"Who can answer that in one day?" I asked in return.

So I left it on the shelf, occasionally returning to brush the dust off and pore over the question. Eventually, I came to realize and accept the answer:

If I knew I wouldn't fail, I'd be writing.

For someone who professes to love writing, I sure have been embracing it at arm's length. Sure, there's a blog, albeit a haphazard one. Then there's writing for a magazine on the side for 5 years. But not much has been done to multiply this talent. Even all the encouragements from people to pursue writing had been received with hesitancy. Knowing man's inevitability to fail one time or another, I've chosen to be safe. But what's the point, right? In order to avoid failing, I haven't really tried.

Long story short, the many moons of contemplation has led me to here - the beginning of an intentional journey as a wordsmith. It's going to be a journey with lots of mistakes and lessons, but at least I'm going to try.

Even if I fail, I shall write.