I have had this same vision for years now, and today I've finally given it genuine thought. I think I am called to write. Since maybe my sophomore year of high school I've seen it; me sitting lit from the chest down by lamplight at a table covered in scraps of old writings and cracked open journals, scratching my head and typing away at a screen. Never even taking the time to take my plate to the sink or change out of my work clothes. I am tired sure, busy at work of course, with other obligations that the dreams always seem to leave out but regardless there I am with the argyle socks tucked into fidgeting leather shoes and sleeves rolled up tight, writing.
I read somewhere today that too often people confuse their "passions", the source of their fulfillment in life, with the tasks that are necessary to put food on the table... And it got me thinking. I realized very quickly that I fall into the same trap that now seems ridiculous to me- because I agree with the sentiment. Who says I cannot take a job that doesn't sing to me? Who says I cannot spend the bright hours toiling at some court house and then have my nights turn to life when I grab my coffee and sit down with my drafts? Yes, I would love to work at a job that requires no encouragement and makes me smile- but what if my true life's work is to be found in ink on numbered pages? And what if I can be just as happy that way, using one piece of my life to fuel and support the other? What if one day I write something so real and honest that people buy it, and I touch their hearts? And biggest of all, what if it's all just another mistake I need to make as a step to finding what my true calling is? Nobody can stop me from trying, and I don't plan on letting them.
I don't know that if it will be a fictional story or a collection of poems... I don't have a story in mind or a lesson to teach- I just know that I want to write about honest-to-God life and let the writing that comes forth dictate its own purpose so that it never becomes doctored, or calculated. Just simple and true.
It would make me very happy.
I read somewhere today that too often people confuse their "passions", the source of their fulfillment in life, with the tasks that are necessary to put food on the table... And it got me thinking. I realized very quickly that I fall into the same trap that now seems ridiculous to me- because I agree with the sentiment. Who says I cannot take a job that doesn't sing to me? Who says I cannot spend the bright hours toiling at some court house and then have my nights turn to life when I grab my coffee and sit down with my drafts? Yes, I would love to work at a job that requires no encouragement and makes me smile- but what if my true life's work is to be found in ink on numbered pages? And what if I can be just as happy that way, using one piece of my life to fuel and support the other? What if one day I write something so real and honest that people buy it, and I touch their hearts? And biggest of all, what if it's all just another mistake I need to make as a step to finding what my true calling is? Nobody can stop me from trying, and I don't plan on letting them.
I don't know that if it will be a fictional story or a collection of poems... I don't have a story in mind or a lesson to teach- I just know that I want to write about honest-to-God life and let the writing that comes forth dictate its own purpose so that it never becomes doctored, or calculated. Just simple and true.
It would make me very happy.
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