I just discovered a blog called alvin in the room, and on that blog I found a post about the purpose of taking notes (or writing, more accurately) that really resonated with me. This line hit me like a ton of bricks:
I am not running a library or museum.
Like Alvin, I have spent far too much time formatting, arranging, and otherwise organizing my notes. And what ever has come of it? Honestly nothing.
It’s the act of writing that enriches me.
The greatest artifact to arrive from my writing is simply the version of me that exists having written.
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