Taking Stock

Taking Stock
Despite evidence to the contrary, it often seems I’ve yet to fully and truly devote myself to my work. It’s almost as if a key element is missing, but I don’t know what that element is — or I do know, but am not quite ready to acknowledge it; or I realize that if I do acknowledge it, present circumstances will prevent me from acting on it. Or maybe I’m simply too distracted by the duties at hand. I am my mother’s full-time companion and caregiver. If that isn’t enough to occupy one’s thinking, nothing is. I might even feel this way because of the situation. It could be my mind’s way of trying to survive or stay on course. Whatever it is, for some time now, I have felt what might well be a change in the wind in the realm of personal literary matters. Something is out there: another novel, perhaps, or a dramatic change in the manner of expression or approach, or the birth of a revolutionary dimension that would require or bring about a shift in the way I live. It might not be noticeable outwardly. I could change, and yet appear to be the same dull person. On the other hand, the change could be so profound that everyone would notice. In a word, I could become inevitable — a culmination of something that cannot be denied. Like anyone, I’ve labored long to be who and what I am. The result is unmistakably limited and human. It’s so simple that it appears to be complex — a poignant, comical farce. I’m no better or worse than anyone else, and no different, except possibly that I am happier because I know what I like to do and I do it, never mind the cost. What is missing, perhaps — besides intelligence, that is — or what has yet to take place, is a full public confession of my artistic sinning self. It is one thing to write books and make them available worldwide electronically and in print, but it is another to — how shall I put it? — publish myself each time I walk out the door. It is far too easy to travel incognito and hide behind my beard. Anyone can be a mysterious stranger, when what is really needed is full participation, a giving spirit, and an open hand. It is not a matter of becoming more than what I am, or of becoming better. It is a matter of being all that I am and making myself freely available without fear or regret. It is a matter of helping others realize they can do the same. It is a matter of rejoicing in the wonderful gifts they bear. The power we hold is infinite. It should be exercised, not wasted. We can save the world. We can save ourselves, the planet, and each other. The opportunity is here. We are the opportunity. *October 24, 2006* Previous Entry Next Entry Return to Songs and Letters About the Author	Main Page Author’s Note Background Notebook A Listening Thing Among the Living No Time to Cut My Hair One Hand Clapping Songs and Letters Collected Poems Early Short Stories Armenian Translations Interviews News and Reviews Highly Recommended Let’s Eat Favorite Books & Authors Useless Information Conversation E-mail & Parting Thoughts Flippantly Answered Questions
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