I Hope You Don’t Read This.
“Even if my song gets swallowed up,
how beautiful that I’m singing.”
Today is launch day. Not a big, crazy launch. A quiet, whisper of a launch after gutting through six straight days of a complete website and software overhaul of Lucky Stars Creative.
Now that the familiar work of web development is done, I find myself standing at the edge of this dense, emotional fog knowing my path lies within it. What’s ahead of me is this vast uncharted territory, within which lies my hopes for this project, my dreams.
Part of me knows, this is going to be the most amazing adventure. A year dedicated to art, are you kidding me? A freakin’ YEAR!
Another part of me feels like a small child lost in an expansive park, eyes frantic with building panic. Perception so drenched with fear that even hopeful promise feels threatening.
Even so, I’m doing it.
These words are my first step. My first act of faith. If I’m going to enter this fog, I want my chin to be held high, shoulders set.
I started this post sincerely hoping that no one would read this entry. Wanting it to disappear into the great abyss of the web. And maybe it will, but I suppose that’s not really the point, is it?
If this journey is for anything at all, it is to reveal to me the way to make my moments on earth count for something. To give voice to the song of my spirit. To call to other souls searching for the song, but forgetting the melody. Even if my song gets swallowed up, how beautiful that I’m singing.
The truth is, we never really know how our walks affect others. All we can ask of ourselves is to shine as brightly as possible. We never know what dark ships sail past our lighthouse, gathering courage on their own way.
My one and only mission is to live brilliantly. That’s all that’s asked of me.
I will not refuse that call.