On Holding On and Letting Go

06/15/2006 9:14 AM – 9:33 AM

What is this writing thing that I do? These instants, I’ve always done some version of them. I probably always will. But what is this thing where I keep telling myself – you have to write, you have to prove your value. No I don’t. I am myself. I always have been and I always will be. If you can’t find peace in the city, you won’t find it in the country. I think I’ll always have some nebulous form of story rattling around, but that doesn’t mean I’m supposed to write it down.

What is better: to have lived a good life or to have written good tales? The two do not have to be exclusive, but I don’t see a point in insisting that I get to my cabin by writing. Writing is an outgrowth of what it means to be Spike. It is not the definition of Spike. Spike also takes pictures with a cheap digital camera. Spike also doodles. Moreso, Spike reads. It is enough to sit. It is enough to eat. It is enough to let it go. What do you want, O Spike? What is it that your face before your grandparents were born looks like? Who are you? I am myself. I was born without my permission; I will someday arrive in the grave where there is no longer any meantime.

So what is it that one should do in the meantime? Work and enjoy the fruits of your labor. Should time and chance effect the plans unfavorably, scream and shout and pound your fists into the ground, and when it is time to run out of tears, run out of tears, stand up, dust yourself off and start again. This is the task that God has appointed to man all the strange days of his strange life. Let go of desire, desire breeds only disappointment. No work is a glorious as a fantasy. Let the fantasy go and be here in the work. Work with humility and gratitude. See the purpose of your life in the living of it. Gather while you can. Let go when it is gone. There is a time for everything. Everything is beautiful in its time. Let go of it. Its time is here. It is already beautiful. Let go, little lost boy. Let go, forgetting old man. Let go, whoever you are right this moment. All things that arise arise. When their time is full, they arise, and in arising, they are the beauty that exists. They are the only beauty that exists. So let it all go. This is enough. Wisdom and planning and patience and self-control and letting go when these fail. This is enough.