It’s been a very busy week here, thus the short posts. Here is another one, just to remind you to do things you love this week.
My eldest son is a summer intern with a NYC law firm this summer. Having. A. Blast. Tidy and bespectacled and cleanly handsome, he wears polo shirts to work and walks to the subway with his girlfriend, who works in government.
His younger brother, not even two years younger, is playing bass with a heavy metal band. They’re actually getting real money to play, and landing gigs like crazy. Having. The. Time. Of. His. Life. He’s muscled and tattooed and pierced (had his lip pierced a few blocks from his brother’s East Village digs, actually) and cheerful.
Eldest has been in love with law since he discovered the Constitution. Youngest always said he was going to Get Discovered.
We usually know, deep down inside, what we’re here for. My sister was a mortgage banker with a husband, two kids, a big house, and plenty of money. She decided, quite startlingly and suddenly at the age of 32 that she wanted to be a nurse. She quit her job and went back to school, much to everyone’s astonishment. She is a nurse. A very devoted oncology nurse who loves her job every second of every day.
Maybe because I am so happy in my own chosen vocation, I believe that keying into our true vocation has more power to grant satisfaction and lifelong happiness than any other single thing. The trick is to follow your bliss wherever it goes. Bass player? Lawyer? Writer? Dentist? Do it, baby.
Do you know what your calling is? Do you practice it? Would you like to and don’t see how?
I always thought, very determindly and stubbornly, that I would do something with music. Be it perform or teach or maybe some combination of the two, but it was going to be music.
Funny thing is… I do something with music. My writing wouldn’t be what it is without my intense love and knowledge of music. I can say without a single doubt that it has informed every word I’ve written since I decided that at heart, I was a writer. I’m just a writer who needs music. Funny how that happens, isn’t it?