I’m discussing this calmly
as though its the most normal conversation in the world.
Wondering if they realize how privileged this moment is-
I’ll be taking their compliments back to my pit
where I will eagerly devour them like a caveman with his kill of the day.
“So you’re going to share that post this week?”, my cousin asks me.
I think I’m agreeing to share but in my mind-
in my mind all I can think of is all of the reasons not to,
all of the reasons that I’ve kept this to myself-
sharing with only a persistent few.
The very act of attempting to type this fills my stomach
with pits and turns-
Fear-the reason that I haven’t shared,
the reason that I haven’t been doing what I should-
doing what brings me happiness.
I’m swallowing the lump in my throat
and with quivering fingers apprehensively
sharing what I thought it is I would never share:
As a child I would spend hours and nights thinking about it
I’d tell the people who I called friends about it.
My teachers encouraged it
but after so many of the people I thought were safe,
the people I wanted to show my heart to,
laughed, scoffed, and said otherwise
I decided to put it in the “maybe one day” pile.
There it stayed for years popping up when I needed it most
and after shamefully using it I put it back in its dusty pile-
with all of the things I never fully intended to do.
Yet I can’t walk away from it.
Like a boomerang I throw it-
yet it comes whizzing back.
This is a note from God.
Perhaps its time for me to stop running-
stop running from it and read it.
I read the note and though excited by the contents-
fear grips my heart and mind.
“I’m good at the things I’ve been doing though,” I think.
The thought of continuing to do these things though-
no longer seems satisfying.
A glimpse of my future self shows me
with unfilled destiny and regret if I continue to ignore the contents of this note.
I can’t continue to search-
to toss and turn at night
when the answer I’ve searched for
has been within me all along.
I’m not an interior designer–
still interested in design but not what I want to do for the rest of my life.
I am a collage artist-
my works are for me.
I am not an art historian-
I love art and history but that is not meant to be my contribution to the world.
I glance at my note from the Almighty-
just to be sure it isn’t a figment of my imagination-
simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.
The urge to share what the note says is there but yet I can’t-
what if I’m reading the note incorrectly?-
Maybe the true contents are only revealed by direct sunlight. .
or moon. .
or fire!. . .
Try as I may to hold it this way or that-
to torch it or read it by moonlight the words remain the fully the same.
Guess you can’t erase the words from God so easily. . . .
Maybe I should just accept what the note says -wait!!-
am I being my authentic self? Am I making a dream more than it’s meant to be?
How much longer can I ignore what the note says?
If I ignore it, will another-bolder written note come?
Then-is this actually the first time I’ve gotten this note?—
This one seems to have a definitiveness that the others didn’t–
stupid stroke making me realize that life is truly short.
But I don’t want to fail!
Yet I know-that in failing in this-I’m succeeding-
and that I’ll do what I’ve always done-
keep moving and try again.
I take a deep breathe as I hug my heart and promise to protect it-
protect it like I always have-
as I come to the end of this page-
looking to fill in so many others.
The words of the note remain steadfast-
words now written in my heart:
I am a writer-
I always have been.
Some dreams are not meant to be abandoned.
I thought that at the end of this my fingers would not be quivering
that my heart would be beating normally in my chest.
Now I’m wondering how I’m going to push that publish button-
How I’m going to share this with everyone.
I tried for so long to try and hide this-
Because I’ve been afraid to admit that writing is what makes me-
Sitting in my pit, its walls looming before me and all around me-
writing brings me solace-
helps me escape from the dreariness before me-
inspires me to open the curtains-
to see the beauty amongst the grime.
Each of us has something inside of us-
something that drives us-
that takes us out of our pits and chasms.
Something that we may be too scared to share,
too frightened to fully grasp–
one frightened heart to another-
what does your note say?