Getting to Work

There is a notion that creative people are absentminded, reckless, heedless of social customs and obligations. It is, hopefully, true. For they are in another world altogether.  –Mary Oliver.

For over a month, I’ve been riding a surge with my writing. Every day I’ve written at least a couple of pages worth. There have been snags, mornings when it’s been difficult to sit before the open pages and fill them, but I’ve managed to nonetheless persist doing so—even when it’s taken two or three sessions in the same day to accumulate a substantial enough amount of writing: say, half an hour’s worth.

Yesterday, however, I wasn’t getting any writing done, and the day continued with me not writing, saving the doing so for later. Even when I knew what “later” was turning into, I continued deluding myself, forgetting that like tomorrow, later was about to never come. (Eventually, however, I did finally come to the blank page, writing this blogpost-to-be.)

Every day is a decision. Sometimes, it’s as though the decision to continue with the craft is made for us already, is obvious. Other times, we have to force ourselves to heed the call. Hopefully, on those days we struggle to keep on keeping on, we’re rewarded somehow: some imp of an inspiration metastasizes into something incredible. Sometimes, though, all we’re left with afterward is just the triumph of not having succumbed to the easier path of “tomorrow/later.”

I’ve noticed for years now that I’m on time for my 9-5 job, every day. In fact, I’m nearly always a little early getting there. Even on the days I don’t want to go to work, which are increasingly common by the way, I show up on time, ready to get to work. For my vocation, though? Well, note that I’ve stated half an hour is considered, “substantial;” and “over a month” of writing is, “a surge.”

For a job that I’m weary of, that I’m ready to be rid of, I’m punctual. For my vocation, my passion? Well… Let's just say I have miles to go.

Quoting Mary Oliver (again): If I have a meeting with you at three o’clock, rejoice if I am late. Rejoice even more if I do not arrive at all.
Not to be snarky, totally asocial, but rather, to heed and honor the call.