when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

from Charles Bukowski’s, “so you want to be a writer“

I think about being so sure footed in our work that we know no other way. I think about callings and mission and creed. I think about forward and pilgrimage and journey. I think about focus and perseverance and 800 tries. I think about the falling apart and coming together and the figureitoutableness (when doing teaches us how to simply figure things out) and the sustenance found in work.

Expectations. Work ethic. Faith. Luck. Compasson. Generosity. Skill. Honesty. It all flows in the river of the day-to-day.

I want to believe in a know-it-in-our-bones-path. I want to see evidence of what is mine to know and possess the strength to act with clarity on it. I want to listen and pay attention to life in all its beauty and terror knowing that all things are born and all things die. I want to burn with the fire of 10,000 suns toward achieving what is mine to achieve and never dim my light. I want to know — in an uncertain world — there is no other way with absolute certainty.

At several points in my life I have been given the advice, “If you can do anything else (mostly with respect to artistic pursuits, like acting or writing) do it. I am never quite sure what that means. Is it permisssion to give up? Is it a dare to go all in? Is it a variation on the story in which we are told “don’t make the same mistakes I made?” Is it a bit of it all? I am not sure.

I believe that we have a unique voice and are given unique gifts that we must share. That there is a path for which there is no other way and never will be. In that space — where poetry and prayer live — we do our thing. We put one foot in front of the other and move forward.

I am writer, sometimes words break my heart. I am a writer, sometimes I overflow and the only place I find relief is in words. I am a writer, sometimes the quiver in my voice when I say those words out loud reminds me what an enormous blessing it is to write. I am a writer, I read with the intensity of a lover of thought and conversation. I am a writer, I walk daily alongside all those who do their thing, shine their light, move between sunrise and sunset determine to love fiercely in this world in need of love.