Not Everything needs and Audience!

  (

Even If No One’s Reading)

Why I Still Write (Even If No One’s Reading)

“Write a blog,” they say. But why, I ask? People don’t read anymore. We live in a world of speed—quick fixes, short clips, scrollable content. There’s no time to sit still, let alone read someone’s thoughts.

So I decided: I’ll write anyway. Even if it’s just for me.

Writing has become part of my healing, my process of finding myself again. This is only my tenth post, and I already feel a shift. Something inside me is moving. It’s as if my soul knows the direction—it just needs me to follow. Breathe. Listen. Stay open. Learn.

And the biggest lesson so far?

Don’t lend your ears to everyone.

People are free to have opinions. I’m free not to care.

Podcasts, they say, are the future. And maybe they’re right. People want to do while they listen—clean, cook, commute, hustle. They want passive input in their busy lives. I get it.

I was listening to Pat Flynn recently, and what he said stuck:

We live in a world of knowing more - more hacks, more info. A podcast for every subject. Tools for every task. But we mistake collecting for creating. Knowing for doing.

We’re flooded with information, and yet stuck. Learning became a substitute for action. Curiosity replaces commitment. It feels productive, but the ideas stay in your head and die in your hands.

Sometimes we need to pause.

Smell the roses.

Feel the rain.

Stop like you do at a zebra crossing: look left, look right, then left again. Ask yourself—am I really on the path I want to be on?

I know not everyone can just walk away from their job or their marriage. Life is complex. But everyone can take a few minutes to just be. To breathe. To check in.

And if you need one more truth bomb from Pat Flynn:

“Stop scrolling , stop learning. Learn just enough.Take action. Reflect. Repeat. Perfection isn’t required. Imperfection is actually your advantage!”

So here I am.

Writing.

Healing.

Growing.

Imperfect-but real.

Did something here speak to you?

Leave a comment if you feel moved, or simply sit with me in quiet.

If you’d like to walk this road with me, follow Nomadic Grandmother for new stories.

— x Elsabe

“Write a blog,” they say. But why, I ask? People don’t read anymore. We live in a world of speed—quick fixes, short clips, scrollable content. There’s no time to sit still, let alone read someone’s thoughts.

So I decided: I’ll write anyway. Even if it’s just for me.

Writing has become part of my healing, my process of finding myself again. This is only my tenth post, and I already feel a shift. Something inside me is moving. It’s as if my soul knows the direction—it just needs me to follow. Breathe. Listen. Stay open. Learn.

And the biggest lesson so far?

Don’t lend your ears to everyone.

People are free to have opinions. I’m free not to care.

Podcasts, they say, are the future. And maybe they’re right. People want to do while they listen—clean, cook, commute, hustle. They want passive input in their busy lives. I get it.

I was listening to Pat Flynn recently, and what he said stuck:

“We live in a world of knowing more—more hacks, more info. A podcast for every subject. Tools for every task. But we mistake collecting for creating. Knowing for doing.”

We’re flooded with information, and yet stuck. Learning became a substitute for action. Curiosity replaces commitment. It feels productive, but the ideas stay in your head and die in your hands.

Sometimes, we need to pause.

Smell the roses.

Feel the rain.

Stop like you do at a zebra crossing: look left, look right, then left again. Ask yourself—am I really on the path I want to be on?

I know not everyone can just walk away from their job or their marriage. Life is complex. But everyone can take a few minutes to just be. To breathe. To check in.

Pat Flynn also said:

“Stop scrolling. Stop learning. Learn just enough. Take action. Reflect. Repeat. Perfection isn’t required. Imperfection is actually your advantage.”

I’ll keep writing. Maybe one day someone will read. But even if they don’t, I will still be here—writing, breathing, becoming.