"Abandoning Here": The Philosophy Behind My Signature
This is an essay about why I sign my writings with "Abandoning here," and what that phrase means for creativity, personal growth, and our dreams.
This is an essay about why I sign my writings with "Abandoning here," and what that phrase means for creativity, personal growth, and our dreams. If you've ever felt overwhelmed by unfinished projects or unrealized ambitions, this piece is for you. If not, feel free to skip it.
I've always been a dreamer. My list of aspirations has been as long as it is diverse: great leader, writer, author, director, pilot, movie star, famous person, painter, manga artist, screenplay writer, world traveler, photographer, go-getter, CEO, President, and maybe even Pope. It's an ambitious catalog of hopes, each one representing a different facet of the person I've imagined myself becoming.
But life has a way of intervening. People aren't lining up to vote for me as President. I don't have the time to log the necessary hours for a pilot's license. Writing a movie script demands more effort than I can currently muster. The list of obstacles is as long as the list of dreams.
Yet, I've come to realize that the value isn't necessarily in achieving all these dreams, but in having them in the first place. These aspirations serve as a whetstone, sharpening our sense of self and helping us discover who we truly want to be. It's like the process of creating a diamond - the pressure and friction of pursuing these various dreams scrape away at our rough edges, revealing the genuine article beneath.
What I've learned is that we never really finish this process. Our art, our dreams, our very lives are in a constant state of flux. We react to the world around us, we shift our goals, we do our best even when motivation wanes. And in this journey, we inevitably reach points where we must make choices - what to pursue, what to set aside, what to abandon.
This idea of abandonment isn't about giving up. It's about recognizing that not everything can be completed to perfection, that sometimes we need to move forward even when things feel unfinished. We might return to these abandoned projects later, changed by our experiences and ready to approach them anew. Or we might look back and realize that it's time to let them go permanently.
Leonardo da Vinci once said, "Art is never finished, only abandoned." This quote has profoundly impacted my approach to creativity and life. It's liberated me from the paralysis of perfectionism, allowing me to produce work, share it with the world, and then move on to the next project.
By signing my essays with "Abandoning here," I'm embracing this philosophy. I'm acknowledging that what I've written isn't perfect or complete in an absolute sense. There's always more that could be said, always room for improvement. But I'm choosing to let it go, to abandon it in its current state, trusting that it's ready to exist in the world as it is.
This approach isn't just about writing or art. It's a life philosophy. It's about recognizing when something - a project, a relationship, a dream - has served its purpose and it's time to move on. It's about having the courage to abandon what no longer serves us, making space for new experiences and growth.
So, when you see "Abandoning here" at the end of my essays, know that it's not just a signature. It's a reminder - to myself and to you - that it's okay to let go, to leave things unfinished sometimes. It's an invitation to reflect on what truly matters in your life, what's worth pursuing, and what might be time to abandon.
In the end, our lives are a series of abandonments and new beginnings. By embracing this cycle, we free ourselves to grow, to create, and to become the people we're meant to be. So don't be afraid to abandon. It might just be the first step towards your next great adventure.
Abandoning here,
Bradley