Dave Ryan | Contributing Writer
Hi, I’m Dave.
I’ve always hated writing about myself, right up until now I understood why I can’t.
We want our words to be complex math equations.
We want every ounce of clever, humor, and wisdom squeezed out of us, illuminating points with a nuanced poise. As a writer we want to share every scandal, every rough edge, every admirable quality we know about people and the world they live in, it’s what move us to write. We want our words to be a high-resolution portrait to stand the test of time and era.
But people are like math in a universe without the laws of physics.
We’re born into the world with probabilities of chance and luck, exposed to the nature of whatever system we exist in. We’re bags of water and cells, created from DNA instruction, with a finite set of experiences, and assigned a thousand variables to describe ourself.
We’re just math. We’re supposed to have an answer, even if it’s not simple.
Wealth and love is supposed to equal happiness. Athletic and toned is supposed to reflect health. Lies are supposed to be wrong. The right thing is supposed to be simple. But you and I both know things are not this way. People are these radical outliers that can’t be predicted, or described, or understood.
We’re radioactive, always changing, always losing, always gaining: always at the mercy of fate in the moment we’re living in.
But I’ve realized it’s a good thing that I can’t write about myself. It means my life is rich and full. It means I’m learning and trying new things. It means I’m growing.
It has taught me everything about writing, including always leaving people wanting more.