Write something. Every day.
If all you write is a short account of every day – just a few sentences – that would still be more than enough. In fact, it would be a treasure to your future self and your future generations.
I’m also a proponent (and the creator) of Homework for Life, a now-trademarked system of capturing each and every day of your life through the lens of a storyteller. Ever since 2013, I have been asking myself, “What’s the most storyworthy moment of this day? What makes this day different than any other day, even if that thing isn’t the kind of thing I’d ever tell a story about?”
Then I write it down – just a few sentences in a growing database of moments that now comprises thousands of snapshots from my life. Memories from years and years, as well as many more memories from the past that I have recovered and recorded.
I also wrote to my children every single day for the first eight years of their lives. That writing exists online on a blog called “Greetings Little One” but also in book form now, and the kids are reading those books constantly.
Reading about the parts of their lives that they cannot remember.
I also write a blog – Grin and Bear It – where I’ve posted every single day since 2003.
Add to this a stack of journals from various times in my life, all the stories that I’ve told onstage and recorded, an unpublished memoir of a summer spent golfing with friends, and an unfinished memoir about the most tumultuous years of my life, and have a considerable record of my life.
You should, too.
Perhaps not to the depth and breadth that my existential crisis demands of me, but do something. Write or record something. Document your existence now before the time becomes fleeting and forgotten, as will you.
Most of the people who have ever lived on this Earth have been forgotten. Any memory of them has been obliterated by time and space, but also by their unwillingness to create a record of their existence.
Don’t let this be you. You deserve to be remembered long after you have shuffled off this mortal coil. And your future generations will treasure all that you’ve left behind.
Don’t take my word for it. Watch this lovely, four-minute video about a grandfather who took the time to document his life and the generations beyond him who now treasure his words.
