Recently I had a shift in the way that I viewed Non-fiction, or really, a way in which I viewed life.
I used to think: why bother reading Non-fiction? Fiction is so much better. The characters are deeper and more compelling. The story arcs converge perfectly. There are subtle symbols and motifs. There is a thematic and philosophical element. . . The infinite imagination is free to take whatever form it likes!
But then I began reading Non-Fiction. And I began to write Non-Fiction. After writing a few pieces I realized that my experiences could become art. And then the sea change of thought: if I can turn past personal experiences into art, then I can surely make the present moment into a form of art as well. Every moment has an aesthetic worth to it. In the most everyday tasks there is usually some sort of philosophical underpinning. I carry a journal everywhere with me so that I can note even the slightest events and meditations and preserve them at some point.
So I say, write Non-Fiction and see if the same thing happens to you.