We are Sisyphus.
We are Ahab.
We are Kanye. Sorry, but we are.
We don’t let go. We claim we’re cursed by the gods to keep pushing the stupid boulder up the stupid hill, but that’s not what’s really happening. We think it’s about the white whale, but it’s us. We pretend it’s about art.
A drummer taught me that a tight grip on the sticks makes a harsh noise; a looser grip creates a fluid sound that is, literally, music. (If you’ve ever wondered why drumsticks go flying at rock concerts, there ya go.)
Raising all those children should have taught me the lesson that there’s a time for a firm grip, and a time to release.
I’ve been letting go of some things, and I can feel the muscles relax all over my body.
The biggest issues are also fodder for some great scenes in upcoming books. Hey; writers don’t waste anything. We’re taking notes, writing down names and places, dates and times.
Life is art. Capture it.
Just know when to let go.