Deserve Part Three: A Warning Against Premature Worthiness

​In my last post, I talked about how I never stepped up and earned any writing skill and success,  never really took chances or dedicated myself back when I was younger and it was easier. 

Ironically, this may be for the best, because everything I wrote before about 2012 I find embarrassing, even negative. And I don’t mean in the open “oh well, I wasn’t writing very good prose back then was I?” way. I mean in the “wow, I’m I’m a different person and I disagree with most of the presuppositions and general underlying themes of those pieces of writing” way.

I was still caught up in the myth of redemptive violence, like most Americans. I operated under assumptions that seem harmful and unChristlike to me now. 

I still wrote without any real diversity of casts,  and worse, without any real understanding. 

So, I’m rather glad  in a twisted way that I never really pulled the trigger before, because my past works (especially if they were successful) would feel like enemies to me. 

Now since they just live on the corners of my hard drive, they’re little more than remembrances of where I was. But if they were out there on Amazon and in bookstores, I would be at war written the works of my own hands.

So that’s where I stand and it’s not so bad as I thought. But it’s not a good place to end up. I have to write more and I have to write more things that I’m proud of and that I think are good – not just “well done” but good in the greater sense.

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Is That Why They Call Them “Possessions?”

Cluttered Basement by Tom W. Sulcer

“Clutter in Basement” by Tom W. Sulcer.
Luckily, I don’t have a basement. If I did, it would probably look like his.

When I think about how much stuff I have, it boggles my mind.  The third bedroom in our house is my “office,” but it’s more of a storage room.  Time after time I go in there to clean it out.  I start strong, but quickly run out of steam.

Getting rid of stuff is hard.  It’s incredibly energy-intensive to sort through stuff and get rid of what you don’t really need.  Incredibly energy-intensive.

If not for Katherine, my wife, my whole house would probably be this bad.  As it stands, the chaos is largely contained to … my room.

Time after time I go in there with full hopes of redeeming the space, of separating the wheat from the chaff, of making the room useful and beautiful again.  And time after time, the stuff beats me.

If I were truly free, truly strong, I would have no problem going in there and winning that fight.  If my priorities were in order, my office would be, too.  But they’re not, and it’s not.

I wonder if that’s why they call them “possessions,” because they own me more than I own them?