All Our Articles Are Sacred

Do you feel the same?

I remember my very first written work. It was a report on squirrels. A black and white picture of a grey squirrel on the cover added something extra to the carefully selected information contained within. Not exactly an epic topic, and looking back over the printed pages more than three decades later it’s literally elementary. But it was special. It was mine.

That was the first time I cared about the words. Like, really cared.

It was the same when I hit puberty and went through that awkward phase. You know, the one where no one understands anymore? Words out of my mouth got twisted, emotions mutating my own intentions into something foreign. But the written word was still there, still solid. People could read, connect, and understand.

That was the good stuff. The drug that keeps on providing. My addiction to words has only matured with time — not lessened, but honed into sophistication. Each article is a little better than the last; a testament to how far I’ve come from that squirrel report.

From Cringe To Fondness

My child is a graphic artist, and they’re damn good at it now. Five years ago, not so much. The skills they could boast were still developing. At the very beginning, they refused to even draw the bodies themselves, preferring to alter pre-drawn art. When they look back at their earlier scribbles, the cringe factor is visible.

They’ve threatened to destroy all their earlier works, to pretend they never existed. I know better. I scoop those babies up like the masterpieces they are and tuck them aside for later. One day, they’ll be able to look back and see something they can’t see now.

Maybe They’ll See What I See — Or Better

Their pre-drawn My Little Pony stencil drawing pages went by the wayside before I could start collecting their portfolio. Pages of emaciated characters with disproportionate heads and bubbled hands account for much of their early work. It would be easy to dismiss those early works as garbage to the untrained eye.

Hell, maybe even some trained ones.

When I look at those childish scratches, I see a young artist excited to show the world what’s in their head. The page became the medium by which they expressed the beauty inside, each piece another step in learning how to walk the path of their choosing.

The Stories Aren’t The Beauty In Themselves

Don’t get me wrong, that squirrel report is terrible. If I were to publish something like that now, I’d get laughed out of Medium. Even a 13 year old (the youngest possible writer here) can absolutely do better. I think I was 7 or 8 when I wrote it; the sentence structure and language is crude and basic. The redeeming features wouldn’t be apparent to most people, because it lacks depth for others to connect with.

What makes it beautiful is knowing that was the seed. That was where it began. When I read the words, I remember the excitement: crafting the words pulled from resources to convey just the right facts, handing it in anxiously hoping I’d done as well as I thought, and the moment the teacher slid it back to me days later, to see that red “100” underlined on the cover page. I could have done backflips, it sent my heart soaring so high!

That one document became the rocket fuel I needed to revisit writing in my hour of need during my first bout of depression at 13. With hormones and peer pressure bearing down on me, the words were always there to help. Though my emotional need to write has changed drastically since then, that formative experience was the foundation for every word I write today. It all began with a squirrel report. One basic, crudely done, elementary squirrel report.

When you can see where you’ve begun, it puts all your effort into a new, exciting perspective.

From Your First Article To The Latest

Remember that first time you hit ‘publish’ on Medium? Whether that was a month or a year — or a decade — you’ve grown since that day. Learning the platform, growing with the changes, meeting writer peers that sharpen and broaden your skills, all the experiences one has on Medium changed the way you write. Even just a little, you know it’s true.

We are forever changed by our decision to publish articles here.

And yet, we rarely look back at those early days. Between the algorithm and boost’s preference for more recent pieces and our reticence to overcome the cringe factor, the early days silently drift further away.

The More You Write, The More The Distance Grows

Scrolling through the list of stories isn’t an easy task. Even going back a few hundred stories can seem laborious. If you’ve ever needed to search for an article you posted more than a couple of months ago, you know what I mean.

Not to mention, we’re building up quite the database — hundreds (sometimes thousands) of stories!

Looking back at earlier posts on Medium can be a challenging undertaking. They’ve tried to make things easier with their ‘download your information’ feature, but it’s got hurdles there, too. If you’re interested in an easier method, check out the Medium Catalogue Feature Project.

Whatever way you can, I strongly suggest going back to the beginnings every now and then. Even if just the beginning of your Medium writing journey, as time has a way of revealing both flaws and inspirations. Reconnect with the version of yourself that joined with hopes and goals — and then review all the articles you’ve published over the months and years since. While many of us have strayed from the original intent (I know I have!), there’s still something awe-inspiring about the volume of work we have produced here.

Words were born here through us. Each article is sacred. Our thoughts and ideas reside in them still, just waiting for us to appreciate them a second time around.

Until next time, remember to follow yourself, always!