The Power of Writing

“Who do you think you are?”

“What are you an influencer now?”

“Who cares about what you think?”

“Do you think people will actually read this?”

“Are you okay?”

Great. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, hi. Thank you for being here and congrats! You made it to the first ever newsletter in Words with Ward.

Did you know the word “news” is actually just the plural of the word “new”? I always thought it stood for “North East West South” like a compass. Turns out we were lied to. It’s simply just more than one “new”…is it just me or does the phrase “one ‘new’ ” oddly sound so cute and innocent? Like it’s just a baby “new” all alone in this big, wide world.

Anyway…

According to Merriam Webster, “news” means “a report of a recent event; intelligence; or information.” 

This newsletter is not meant to be “a report of recent events” as we usually tend to think of the news. 

It falls under the other part of the definition: “intelligence” and “information”. 

So if you’re like me and you have a curious mind, stick around for a bit, I think you’ll like it here. 

This first newsletter is a special one because it contains a story about me, Ryan Ward. Something told me it was the only right way to start. We’ll get to that something.

I hope you find these words helpful. 

Over the past few years, I’ve consumed more content than I ever had previously.

There were periods where I’d go ALL IN on being super productive: watching tutorials, reading books, and listening to podcasts about topics like personal finance, philosophy, marketing, spirituality, health, psychology, and business. 

Don’t get me wrong though. There were also periods where I’d consume a lot of really unproductive content and get addicted to it. I’d start a shitty reality tv show and find myself absolutely glued to the couch for hours on end. Looking at Instagram or TikTok or YouTube during the commercial breaks. Just scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling…

With all of this information I’d been consuming, both good and bad, I felt like there was so much external noise. I felt my mind being pulled in many different directions. There was so much input. Eventually, even the good content would become significantly less appealing than it initially was. At a certain point, it felt like it was turning into a form of mental masturbation, consuming all of this “good content” without actually putting the things I’d learned into action. The cycle continued, on and on and on. It seemed inescapable.

Then all of a sudden, something miraculous happened. 

I don’t know where it came from. But there was this inner voice that spoke to me, ever so faintly, almost like a gentle nudge in my mind that said “start writing.”

“Start writing?” I questioned.

It was as if something was trying to tell me, “stop the yelling, stop all that outside noise, use your inside voice.” Yea, like when your parents or teachers growing up would tell you “use your inside voice” when you or someone in your class started to get too loud.

I decided to listen to the “inside voice”, and I started taking notes down on my Notes app.

The title was “inside voices.” 

Let’s be clear, even though you’re reading this now, at this point in the story, “inside voices” was for me and only me. I did this for about 2 years. From the beginning of 2020, to the end of 2021. Pretty much all of Covid lockdown. I wrote so much down that it was tough to navigate if I wanted to look back on one of the entries.

So on February 6, 2022, I decided to move everything over from my Notes app to a Google Doc in order to organize everything. I wanted to see what the common themes were across all of the notes I’d written down. 

I thought, maybe the “inside voices” would tell me something, as they had before. 

The themes were: 

• Dreams

• Creativity

• Understanding the World - perspective(s)

• Notes to Self

• Business Ideas

In total, this new “inside voices — themes” doc was 30 pages long. 30 pages is a lot, I know. We were trapped inside for 2 years, what can I say?

After compiling this new doc, I was hit with a sense of both relief and regret. 

I felt relieved because I had some great ideas in there, and I’d made some interesting connections across themes. Some ideas alone were actually pretty profound, some were silly, and some I had written down so long ago that I didn’t even fully understand them anymore. But that’s not what caused me to feel the sense of regret. 

I regretted not acting on the good ones.

After reading through all of them again, I was hit with this tidal wave of motivation to make them happen, finally, and I dabbled with a few, which felt great for a brief moment but, ultimately, I didn’t stick with them long enough to make them actually come to life. 

The regret crept back in accompanied by its friend, the cycle of endlessly consuming content. 

I sat with this feeling for a long time, about a year. During this time, I didn’t take many notes. I felt so conflicted with myself but wasn’t sure exactly why. I could sense that the people closest to me and even the people that I’d met during this period felt that energy, too, whether they knew it or not. I was at odds with myself, knowing that I have all of these dreams and ideas I want to pursue but not actually going after them. Then, it happened again. “Write it down”. The inside voice was back.

So I started a separate doc titled “In Prog”, short for “In Progress”. This time, it was more of a personal journal rather than a list of ideas and observations. I used it to get my thoughts and feelings out of me. It felt good to do this. I remembered why I started writing things down in the first place. I did it for my own peace of mind. Still just for me. I didn’t write in this journal daily (maybe I should have). There are only 11 entries total, starting on February 26, 2023. Nonetheless, it helped me.

There’s one entry that I’d like to share with you from July 27, 2023 (slightly edited for the flow here).

It’s the day before I move. As I sit on the couch in the house I grew up in, I can’t help but think about all of the time I’ve spent here. Growing up as a kid here feels like ages ago. Another lifetime. So many memories pour into my mind as I move through this house. One touch of the stove and I’m transported back to the summer before my senior year of college, cooking myself a meal to prepare for the upcoming soccer season after having spent the whole day training. 

I look over to the other side of the couch, the side I used to sit on, and I’m pulled back to the time I used to wonder about what I’d be like when I’d eventually grow up, what sort of life I’d have. In a lot of ways, I’m still that same kid just on the other side of the couch now. I think back to the future lives I’d live inside my mind as a kid. I realize that I haven’t lived any of them. For some reason I always thought by the age of 25 I would’ve “made it”. I’m 27 now. 

If you ask my grandparents how I’m doing they would tell you, as grandparents do, “he has a great job, he works for a great company”. And sure, I’ve done okay up until this point, but it’s not enough for me. I can’t imagine myself doing what I’m currently doing for the rest of my life. 

I know this isn’t how I’m meant to be living. I acknowledge that it’s me who is responsible for my current life, but it has to change. I know I’m capable of so much more. Why haven’t I followed my dreams yet? Is it the constraints put on me by society? Am I afraid of what other people will think?

I look over to the kid on the other side of the couch. He looks back at me and says, 

“Why do you give a fuck? I mean, if you want to do something, you should just do it.”

I look at him speechless. 

He sees my face and says, “Dude, seriously, why haven’t you done any of these things yet? Just think about it, what’s stopping you from doing them now?” 

Do I think I’m not capable? No, I believe in myself more than anyone else. I know what I’m capable of. The kid has always known.

This past year living in an apartment by myself has allowed me to figure out what habits I need to adopt, keep, or rid myself of in order to take me to the life I want to live. I’m grateful for making the decision to live by myself for that very reason. I know what it takes now. You can’t hide from yourself. The little things every day add up, for better or for worse. I need to become a machine, built to drive myself directly to my ideal life. Obviously, yes, it’s about achieving success and having access to nice things and experiences, but really, it’s about the ride along the way. 

I’m moving away from most of my friends and family to restart. I’ve felt way too uncomfortably comfortable in my life for too long, and I need a change of scenery. 

Before I sign off, there’s an old Confucian proverb I heard recently that goes:

“What’s the best time to plant a tree? 20 years ago. 

What’s the second best time to plant a tree? Today.”

Remember when I said it was “for me and only me”…well, it was. But one the most beautiful things about life is that things change. And I’ve changed. 

Having lived away from my bubble of comfortability for a few months now, it’s given me some time to reflect on all of the above. I drew 2 main conclusions.

The first was: 

1) Writing is everywhere and in everything. 

What’s the last show you really loved? I bet it had a great script. TV shows, movies, YouTube videos, advertisements, the stories we tell each other, the emails and texts we send every single day, the list goes on and on…it’s EVERYWHERE. You’re even writing your own life story at this very moment (thanks for my cameo rn btw). Out of all of that content I was consuming, the pieces I still remember to this day were all really written well.

This was an “aha” moment for me, mainly because it connected back to another one of my journal entries within “In Prog”, which was a list of my top skills and the things I need to work on. The #1 skill I put down was “writing”. I distinctly remember putting that down first without hesitation. From essays in high school, to papers in college, and now emails for work, writing has always been something that came pretty naturally to me. And I’m both grateful and blessed for that. My parents would read some of my essays for school or for my college scholarship applications and they’d tell me how proud and amazed they were. - thanks for positive feedback :)

Despite having this talent of writing, I never really saw it as something I could pursue, like as an actual career. I don’t know why I thought that. Maybe I’d been conditioned to think creative work was unsafe and not worth the trouble of pursuing. I was somehow blind to the fact that writing is everywhere and that I can do it pretty well. Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter anymore. I can see it now. So why not go for it? I often picture myself right now laying in my deathbed absolutely disgusted for not pursuing all of my dreams. 

I would be disrespecting myself by not exploring writing and seeing where it takes me. 

The second conclusion from this time of reflection was: 

2) I have an obligation to share. 

Writing has helped me make sense of myself and the outside world around me. And if it helped me, I feel like it would be a shame not to share it, knowing that it could’ve helped someone else. As humans in this world, we have an obligation to share what we learn, it’s how we’ve gotten this far. 

Also, the kid on the other side of the couch would want me to. He knows I’ve been way too comfortable. I’ve been playing it safe. Sure, I was able to get into and graduate from a good school and then get a good job, and don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely grateful and proud of both of those things. But at the time, I still feel deeply unfulfilled because I know what I’m capable of, and it’s way more what I’ve done so far. 

Building the courage to share my perspective has taken me a while. But the fact that you’re reading this means one thing: the level of my unfulfillment has outweighed the obstacles in the way of achieving my dreams. 

You might be thinking, so what took you so long to start sharing…?

Well, the main obstacle…was…you. Yea, YOU. The people who were saying (in my imagination)…

“Who do you think you are?”

“What are you an influencer now?”

“Who cares about what you think?”

“Do you think people will actually read this?”

“Are you okay?”

If you did ask any of those questions, I appreciate your concern. Let me clear things up for you. 

“Who do you think you are?” Peep the URL. I am Ryan Ward.

“What are you an influencer now?” It’s really not up to me to decide that. You tell me. Has this influenced you in some way?

“Who cares about what you think?” I know at least I do, and that’s enough for me.

“Do you think people will actually read this?” Maybe not, but does it really matter if anyone does? It’s helping me either way.

“Are you okay?” I’m better than ever. 

Why do we care so much about what other people think? 

We're changing every day. That’s life. If you weren’t changing, there’d be something wrong. 

There will always be people, often people you know closely, who will criticize you because you're challenging their own idea of you.

Don't let this hinder you in any way. 

It's on them to accept the changes and alter their perception. It’s not on you.

One final note, just for you.

Having the ability to put words out into the world is truly amazing. I may have never even met you, and I may not ever, but I hope my words will positively impact you in some way.

If you’re still reading, maybe you’re going through something similar. My advice to you is this,

“Write it down and share it with the world. You have an obligation to do so.”

I’m sure there’s at least 1 person that will find your words helpful. 

-Ryan Ward