Having decided at an early age that no religion would suffice to teach me the truths of Life, I kinda worked it out as I went along, figuring there’d always be a second chance to do it right. That such an approach was not void of trial and error need not be explained. On the one hand that makes one cautious, but at the same time that one question remains…..
On the edge, or beyond it?
Going on with the next step right after you’ve assured yourself your other foot is on solid ground, or rather leaping before you look, and trusting for the best? It is said that all that is required is faith, to do just about anything. That may be so, but still, blind faith is hard to come by. Had it once, during swimming lessons at school. I figured I could swim good enough to also try the deep end of the pool. That was absolute faith, but it damn near cost me the air in my lungs! Narrow escape, but the faith had gone, permanently!
And still, the impression does not elude me that something is gently nudging me to get back up there again. No, not the swimming bit: I got all my diploma’s right afterwards, and now swim like one can expect from a Pisces. No, the faith bit: Writing has been my passion all along, but somehow I always was hogtied to that other job, the one involving computers. Just like I never dared go into business for myself, the writing was forced into the background, as an alternative instead of a solution.
But change happens, and it ain’t always negative shit: This week I notice a recurring pattern in my writing: whenever I need inspiration, there is always an interhuman relationship popping up, however transient, to provide me with the idea for a novel. It happened with a colleague who magically turned into a goddess of beauty, and again with an ordinary guy who stayed his perfect self, despite an earthshattering change in his life.
What is also remarkable is that they both signify experiences about which I have wondered in the past. How would a model feel about her life, what would it do to her personality? And how would I feel, if from one day to the next, my bank account exploded? Both ways: either filthy rich, or just no money left in the world.
Other themes might indicate who I’m going to meet next. Surviving alone in a world void of others, or perhaps one of the more rare subspecies of humans who might feel out of place in the body they now have. But let’s get back to the point: the observation that inspiration is ALWAYS there the moment I need it, was enough to drive me over the edge:
This morning I mailed my boss that our agreement for me to complete a study for the end of the year would have to be forfeited by me. Not only am I having trouble absorbing the dirty details of the material, but sudden inspiration has chalked all across my agenda for the rest of this year: no time to study, because that third novel must be complete by year’s end! And the fact that blowing off my study might cost me the company’s very generous Christmas Bonus suddenly feels completely trivial, because the books will make up for that!
They call it a leap of faith, but it is my experience that it is more a matter of gradually edging towards the cravice, and then suddenly realizing you have been walking on air all the time!