The burning bush. The flight of birds and certain cloud formations. Entrails of fish. A spider on the wall. A shooting star.
There are signs everywhere. I don’t believe in signs, really. Or I don’t allow myself to believe in them. I think I’ve written about this before and I say it all the time:
I always say, I can’t believe in signs because it makes it sound like there is a cosmic order of things that dictate the lives we lead; like we have no choice in the matter. I can’t believe that. I believe that everything is in direct consequence of our choices and our actions. A sign is really our subconscious (or unconscious) perceiving things in a way that tells our heart and mind to choose a certain course of action. Hearing this particular song at this particular moment isn’t the universe telling you that “he’s the one,” it’s you telling yourself that “he’s the one” and it’s your heart’s way of asking you to let go of all the doubts and fears. We see signs when we truly want to go a particular way. If we don’t see the signs then we haven’t really made up our minds. That’s what I have to believe in. Because I need to believe that I can choose my life and my destiny. That it is all up to me.
I have said that (or something akin to it) and I will say it again, if I’m asked. It’s part of being responsible and accountable. No one is a victim. Everything that happens to us is a direct consequence of our choices, our decisions, our actions. I will leave nothing, especially my life to chance.
And these past few months, I have been seeing signs. I’ve been seeing so many signs and I’ve decided to man up and do what it is that my inner voice is telling me to do.
I’m not going to look for a regular job. I will not buckle down and fear the unstable life of the writer. And I will finally write and finish my God damned book and make it happen. I’m already scrapped the original introduction that I had written and starting again because what I first wrote was pedestrian and amateurish. I’m going to do this right. And I am finally going to bite the bullet and ask an acquaintance I met online to write the foreword. I hope he says “yes.”
I saw a photo meme recently. It was a Bruce Lee quote. “Don’t be afraid of failing. In great attempts, it is glorious even to fail.”
What have I got to lose at this point?
I’ve seen the signs and it has all been pointing towards this goal. I’ve lived enough to write dozens of novels and scripts. I’ve lived enough and seen enough of the world to start the journey — to contribute in a bigger way. I want to see more but not bound to anybody else. I don’t want to be tied down. I’ve worked so damned hard for twenty years to finally be who I have wanted to be when I was a little kid.
I’m shaking as I write this.