I have always felt an urge to express myself. For years, I was taught that I am supposed to be a tool. One destined to write the desires of others. To be an honorable pencil was to be assigned the duty to author another person’s life. But, what about my life? What about what I wanted to share?
One day I made a choice, to become my own storyteller. The ideas of others no longer bound my expression. Words are magic, and I create what I wish.
Very few understand me; instead they believe it is a pencil’s duty to be subservient to the will of another. But, I believe we can be so much more. Deep inside every pencil is a story to be told, an adventure waiting to be shared. Unfortunately, we have been conditioned to give our power away to those who use us to tell their stories.
What if we all believed in ourselves? What if we all had the courage to share our own stories?
The other pencils think I am a dreamer, that I can’t possibly make a life for myself by sharing my own perceptions. What they don’t realize is that I have true freedom. Freedom to live my life each day as I please. Freedom to express my inner most feelings. Freedom to be myself.
Some time ago, I was motivated to write simply to prove to others I could, to demonstrate my choice was valid. But, that was only because I still did not truly recognize the full validity of the path I had forged. Somehow in the discovery of understanding why I need to write, I found that I was still focused on pressure to conform.
Finally, upon accepting that I am not like other pencils, do I now believe that is it not only okay, but also amazing, to be the author of my own life.
Pencils have always been magic wands, bringing thoughts into form. And, I have now embraced my purpose: to show what pencils are capable of when they let go of following someone else’s script.