Hold On

The inevitable blow has arrived – times two!

I checked my email today, to learn first that I’d been dropped from the preliminary round of the contest I entered, and then that a story I’d submitted (and waited four agonizing months to hear back on, hoping against hope the longer and longer it remained “in Progress” instead of rejected) had also been rejected.

remember when I said that writing is like pushing forth a tiny bit of your soul out to brave the wild world? It’s times like these that can make it feel as though that raft didn’t just capsize – it shattered entirely, and your soul wasn’t wearing a life jacket. And then a giant shark came along…

Alright, I exaggerate, but only slightly. Surely those of you who’ve been there understand the vague feeling of bruises and scars woven together beneath the skin. Someone found you – your words, your art, your dance, your photography, your acting – wanting. In satisfying.

You pause a moment. Wonder what that means about who you are, what you have to offer…the magic your life revolves around.

But what would your time better be spent on? Surely not only the work that pays your bills, the labor that keeps your home clean, mindless tv watching and fun but fleeting moments.

You were burdened with the call to greater things than this.

Keep the light alive. Go on. For better or worse, you are: a singer, a dancer, a musician, an artist, a photographer, a designer, a writer. Make it for the better.

I’ll be here, pressing fingers to keys. No white flags.

Emerson

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