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Writer by Design

Picking up a pen over everything else is a difficult choice. The Jamaican dub poet Michael Smith writes in Before I Lay Me Down:

                                       certain of nothing
                                   but the certainty of doubt.

 These lines can be relevantly taken as an echo of rational paradox for all writers. Why does one write? For acclaim? Distinction? Pursuit? Urge? Ambition? Inspiration?

 Nay. These are mere commoners. So much so is true for any industry. Passion single-handedly cannot decide the mark of destiny. So, what is it that makes a writer, writer?

 Perhaps, the choice itself. When you know that everything that you deserve to be would never suffice what you already are. When you know anything else wouldn't justify what you already are. The hardest choice to make is to tell ourselves that we're already arrived.

 The choice itself makes the different. To remain what you are, to keep that, to know this is all where you ever had to be. That there is no further place. No different place.

 It is in that moment of reciprocity that your writer awakes. The awareness that everything around you is in motion except yourself. When you take the center and keep your stand.

 A firm spine has the fullest view. Claim your design.

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