Confession

There is something I need to confess. (And it won’t be brief. #sorrynotsorry)

It’s nothing terrible. In fact, it could be wonderful. It’s just that it is very difficult because it is something so intrinsic to my soul I keep it close, hidden away, protected.

However, if any of you have noticed on my homepage, I quote the dear C. S. Lewis, of blessed memory, who once said, “Nothing that you have not given away will ever really be yours.”

Like everything else I do, I strategically chose such a quote to describe my blog not only as an admittance to the cyber-world of my intentions, but mostly as a reminder to myself.

A wise man once said, “People [do not] light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a stand, and it gives light to all…”

There is a legend that when Hashem created the world, He put part of Himself into jars which then shattered, scattering His light into the world. Now it is our job to find these lights, these sparks, hidden throughout creation, and reconnect them to the Divine Presence of Hashem.

I have also heard it said such light lives and dwells in us; that we are, each of us, jars of clay through which the glory of Hashem shines through, we are now the vessels which carry those divine sparks.

Sharing such light is what reconnects it to its original purpose, but how do we share it? What is it? How do we know what our “light” is?

While I do not think I have a definite answer as I am no sage or scholar, I think I have an idea, for this is something which I have wrestled with for years.

You see, I’m not very good at talking about myself. Why is too complex an answer. If I could have my way, I would find some cabin in some woods and become a hermit living high up on a mountainside where no one could find me. I’d live there like the old women in fairy tales with their gardens and animals content in my little hovel.

But I was not made for isolation. I was not created to dwell separate, invisible. No one was.

I wish I could be. It would be so much easier. It would be so much more comfortable.

Only in spite of the part of my self which longs for solitude, something far deeper, far stronger, far more resilient writhes in painful protest at such thoughts and longings. It demands, commands, compels me to say, “No,” for I know I was created to share whatever my supposed light is.

Before I continue… what I think these “lights” are which we have inside is something abstract, maybe esoteric. It is our reason for existence. Each of us was given a purpose as we were formed and knit together in our mother’s wombs. It could be anything from being a mother and wife raising a family to being the CEO of a major company to researching a cure for cancer to exploring the vast realms of space to teaching the next generation in a kindergarten class.

These purposes are often manifested as dreams. Think back to whenever you were first asked as a child, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Remember the wonder, the fascination you felt, thinking the whole world was an oyster you held in the palm of your hand? All you had to do was figure out which tools to use to pry it open and find that pearl?

Of course, you realised early on since you’re not good at math, you couldn’t possibly calculate a formula for opening the oyster. Then again, you weren’t that physically strong either, so using brute force would not be sufficient.

As time passed, you discovered your own unique gifts and strengths, those things which you were just born with, and your gift was your voice. Not singing, like in a Disney film, but the sound, the words, the melodic inflections. More importantly, it was the authenticity, the uniqueness, the confidence. Thus, you talked to the oyster, and eventually you realised it was listening, that it always had until finally, unexpectedly, one day, in its trust, the oyster opened revealing the most beautiful pearl.

The sad thing is too many of us end up tossing the oyster away entirely in our frustration, succumbing to our bitterness, becoming a shell of who we were meant to be. Too often, I think, this is a result of comparison, of looking at others and wanting what they have for ourselves.

No one can be you. Only you can be you. Without you, something is missing in this world, a spark is lost.

There is no purpose, destiny, calling, whatever term you want to use which is more important, more significant than the other. We each have our roles to play in this journey of Life. We can’t all be the director or the lighting designer or the stage hand or the leading actor. One person is assigned their role, and it’s up to them to perform it, whether behind or on the stage.

Now, in a more practical sense, our supposed “light” could be likened to talent or gifts. While those are two different concepts, they are each a different side to the same coin. As such, they work together in a symbiosis with other traits of our self to produce in us a yearning which gives us a feeling of purpose, i.e. dreams.

Let me use myself as an example. If you knew me besides these words on a screen, you would assume my light would be this other talent I possess. Now, this talent I thoroughly enjoy and cherish like I do my own brother. In fact, I so loved this talent, I once was planning on pursuing it as my career thinking it to be my core purpose in life.

But something deep within me always knew I was made for something more, something else. Does this negate my talent or other people who do choose it as a career? Absolutely not. It just means I want to follow the road less travelled (as cliché as that might sound).

Besides, who in their right mind spends the rest of their life with their brother as their sole companion? Who marries their brother? No one. It’s unthinkable. It’s inherently wrong. Does this mean you love your brother any less? Again, no. Absolutely not. You will always love and adore your brother, but you know deep within you spending the rest of your life with him is far from what you were meant to do and, furthermore, be.

For me, my aforementioned talent, as I said, is likened to my brother. Now, it took me a very long, arduous, excruciatingly painful 10 years to figure that out, to accept it, and also tell others, “No, this is the life I want to live instead,” to stand up for myself. You see, during those 10 (now 11) years, there was another, a proverbial man who swept me off my feet and carried me away to a place where I fell helplessly, madly in love with him.

In other words, there was this special, plausible talent I possessed; a secret talent, hidden which not many knew about. Not even my own parents. It was my own, something which no one related to me or judged me for, nor perceived who I supposedly was because of it.

It gave me freedom, not a box. In it, through it, I could be wholly and truly myself. It gave me life. And that is my story.

By now, I’m sure you’ve guessed it: my secret “talent” was – is – writing. Of course, it’s not so secret anymore. Furthermore, most days I even doubt it could be described as a talent. But like all doubts, it’s a lie, one I choose, I fight to not believe. My self-doubt is not as strong as it once was, which tells me I must be doing something correct.

Only to me it isn’t a “talent”. I would never describe writing as a “talent”. That other thing I was cryptically talking about, the one I allegorized as my brother? That I would call a talent.

This? Writing? Never.

Why? Because writing is essential. It is like oxygen to me. Without it, I would feel empty, useless, worthless. It is a part of me as much as I am a part of it. I cannot live without writing. Even if I never do more than just this blog, even if I were to have never started a blog, but merely continued with my own personal creations and journaling, it would have been enough. But I can’t.

That something inside me which refuses to hide away won’t let me hide my writing either.

Like all light, it leaks out and cannot be contained no matter how precisely sealed of a vessel I think I’m using. It even hurts when I try to keep it locked away.

That is how I know, after years of wrestling, if for no other reason than it gives me life, it must be my light. And now it is my job, my task to reconnect it, to share it with the world.

Thus, why tell you all this? Why tell you any of this?

Well first, I was contextualizing, bringing you into my journey so you would understand the history behind my initial reason for confessing all this to you today.

Writing isn’t something which you can just quit your day job and pursue and be financially stable overnight. Believe me, I’d love nothing more. However, I am an adult (gross) and have bills to pay, apparently food to buy to sustain myself, and other “life” expenses.

Therefore, to begin, like most artists, I need help.

I need patrons, those who will say, “Yes, I believe in you, and I have the capability of supporting you as you pursue this dream, this way of life.” This support will not come without its benefits or perks either. You’ll have access to exclusive content and updates on projects I’m working on, all of which I hope inspires you not only to continue giving, but just in your own life.

I have no other goal but the expression of my own struggles and fears, and the hope and courage I found in overcoming Life’s challenges. For me, stories are the best medium through which to convey such ideologies and philosophies, to share hope. Of course, it will be done in very specific ways, but those details I will not share, not yet. (Perhaps patronage is the way to unlock those further kept secrets?)

What I can tell you is I am in the middle of a major project [novel], one that I have been working on for 11 years, and finally I may get to see my dream become a reality. Should you pledge to become my patron, then you will have access to what this project is, what is currently going on, and all sorts of juicy exclusive behind the scenes footage.

So that’s it. That’s my confession. I want to be a writer. Full-time. No more day job. No more lies. No more hiding. And to do so as I begin, I need your help. Like I said, I wasn’t created to be isolated. None of us were. So let’s do this. Together.

To support me as a patron, please click here to access my Patreon page** where you can sign-up.

**Patreon page coming soon