The Serendipity of Whispers from the Past

Photo by Joshua Sortino on Unsplash


Approximately two weeks ago, I made the decision that I want to genuinely pursue writing as a new career. Admittedly, I have so much to learn, and so very far to go — but, I’m stepping out into the void.

I’ll go back and note, roughly, my days since that decision, to track my thoughts and worries and, ultimately, my progress. In the future, I hope to share them with others considering the same path and dealing with the same or similar concerns.

Though certainly not the first time I’ve encountered this advice, again and again as I’ve started down this path, reading so many of the Medium Masters (as I think of them), journaling is one of the primary practices they recommend — to note troubles, track progress, jot down ideas, and focus on, The Dream.

It’s funny — I went hunting for an old journal of mine that I knew was lying about, buried under who knows what and who knows where; a Jim Rohn journal included with a 90 Days to Life Change Plan (bought so many moons ago, it’s too late now for a 90 Months to Life Change Plan). On a positive note, I’m perfectly on pace for a 90 Years to Life Change Plan, so there’s that.

The Unexpected

Photo by Jonathan Rados on Unsplash

Before putting any new thoughts to paper, I went back and reread some of the earlier entries from long ago. Casually turning the pages, pausing to read here and there, I stumbled upon an entry made just after, and related to, my dad’s death.

Ummm, interesting. I don’t remember writing about that. So now, proceeding with cautious curiosity, I encountered my past words, like entering an alternate realm of reality; the musings of a second self. I wrote of his death having caused me to have a sense of coming unmoored, set adrift with no direction, no purpose, and that lack of purpose leading me to a period of life re-evaluation.

And then I was stunned to read this: “I finally know what I want to do.” Excuse me?!

It is difficult to sufficiently impress upon you the impact that reading that sentence had upon me. The sense of disorientation akin to the feeling one experiences when standing near the edge of a great height, a precipice. Immediately, anxiety, tension and trepidation came over me as I read those words. What if what I decided back then was different from what I decided just two weeks prior?! The last thing I need is yet another sense of self-doubt about yet another career choice of mine. I’ve had way too many of those already, thank-you.

But there I was, having just recently made, The Decision, on the direction to steer my life, and now I was staring at a sentence that purported to reveal the same sense of definitive purpose, but one brought about by my emotional unmooring in response to my father’s death! I mean, all things being equal, decisions brought about by death trump the turmoil of decisions brought about by simple ennui and a longing for the ethereal, yes? Sighhh, I needed an aspirin.

With hesitancy, I continued reading, hoping for the best, prepared for the inevitable — — I stopped cold.

My hands, holding the journal, literally dropped to my lap as tears welled up in my eyes, my breath catching in my throat. I simply sat there, savoring the incredible, yet wholly unexpected sweetness of the moment. My many anxious fears simply melted away, worries over this long-buried Rock of Truth slipping into a beautiful moment of serendipity.


Reading on, these were the sweet words I encountered: “…it finally came to me pretty clearly — I want to write. I’m not sure in what capacity, exactly, but I want to write.”

The feared roadblock of impending and contradictory ideas concerning my future was instead an incredible affirmation, a joy-filled moment. And it only took a little over TWELVE YEARS of many missteps and false starts down wrong paths to come to a point of re-realizing that desire within me, and finally making a conscious decision to step out in pursuit of that desire. Oh, but it can take a long time (clearly), and a lot of necessary growth, to finally arrive at the place we are meant to be.

Better late than never, it’s said — though some might say, “No, Gregory, not late, not late at all; you’re right on time.” I’d like to believe that’s true — things happening right when they’re supposed to, regardless of expectations or perceptions to the contrary.

Take Away

Never give up on your desires, never give up on yourself. Be patient, keep growing, and always move, however incrementally, in the direction of your Dreams.

‘Till next time —




Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
Gregory Cade

Gregory Cade

Creative, Artistic, Curious, Analytical. A risk-taker who loves to laugh and drink life in with his eyes. Always reading, observing, questioning.