|Come with a whoop,and come with a call.|
Come with a whole heart or not at all.
(Neil Gaiman, The Ocean At The End Of The Lane)
Whenever I look back, what stand out are the shining moments of my rediscovery of my passions. The first time I painted after more than two decades. The first time I wrote a novel. The first time I acknowledged how much I love writing, reading, and making art after many years of believing that they were dispensable hobbies next to the career that everyone measured me with.
Last year the solo work got to a point that I was desperate. I was in danger of losing my home because I had missed payments. There were no projects for more than six months. I wished for a job.
This year the job came. And so did the projects. And I found myself in a quandary. But in the end I chose to be true to what I have become.
It sounds crazy. A steady, most likely very fat, paycheck given up for a continued life of financial roulette. All I had to do was say yes. But I said no.
It was not an easy decision. But my heart has been more vocal since I started on this particular journey and it would not give me peace. My mind came up with exquisite arguments, logical explanations of the hows which, I have always been told, should be left in the hands of the Universe. Logic can only take me so far. In the end, will I be happy? Will I wake up in the morning with optimism or with dread? Will I risk the joyful creative life I have started to build for a life that satisfied only the expectations of others?
At the hardest point of my contemplation, Neil Gaiman's The Ocean At The End Of The Lane presented itself like a sign. It had completely slipped my mind that it would be out already, and I stumbled into it on the way to a client meeting. A beacon amidst the turmoil of my own thoughts.
"How can you be happy in this world? You have a hole in your heart. You have a gateway inside you to lands beyond the world you know. They will call you, as you grow. There can never be a time when you forget them, when you are not, in your heart, questing after something you cannot have, something you cannot even properly imagine, the lack of which will spoil your sleep and your day and your life, until you close your eyes for the final time...you will die with a hole inside you, and you will wail and curse at a life ill-lived." (Neil Gaiman, The Ocean At The End Of The Lane)
"...so I turned, randomly, down another road, and took a left, and a right. It was only then that I realized where I was going, where I had been going all along, and I grimaced at my own foolishness." (Neil Gaiman, The Ocean At The End Of The Lane)
I heard it said, "When two points are destined to touch, even if a direct connection is impossible, the Universe will always find a way."
My heart tells me it is only a matter of time. And what of time? There is plenty. There is always enough. It is always perfect.