You’re not done by a longshot. But you’re done doing things in this capacity and in this way.
The system's broken and you’re not gonna fix it anytime soon.
You’ve tried and tried again. Knocking and waiting. Knocking and wondering. Two doors down a door opens. You go in and hear three more shut.
Revolving doors and locks without keys.
This has been your training ground.
First you learned about the craft. Then you tried out the craft.
The time for experimenting is over.
The time for living this way is over.
You know longer wonder. You know.
You used to be fearless in working but always carried doubts deep down about the work.
Now you know and can walk through a brand new door without fear.
If that byline never comes again you’re okay.
If that rectangular object never gets placed by your front door again, it’s fine.
The stories have only magnified. They’re not about you anymore. You’ve gotten the rubbish out of your system and you’re a little older and a tiny bit wiser.
It’s time to keep going but in another direction.
It’s time to stop juggling colored balls in a color-blind world.
Take a breath and look over at the edge. It’s not that scary even if you’re afraid of heights.
It’s time to let go.
But letting go does not mean taking it easy, or giving up, or pausing or stopping.
But it does mean to stop worrying.
The words will always be there. And you know something.
There will be more.
Hopefully—God willing—many, many more.
Labels: journey, Ramblings, the future, the writing life