Epiphany: advice from Mom

incandescent-lightbulb

“Hey, mom.”

“Hi, son. How would you define epiphany?”

“Hmm. Well, I don’t have a dictionary in front of me but I guess it would be like a realization. An enlightenment with some meaning and purpose attached.”

“Yes, that’s it, I had one of those. About you.”

“Oh?”

“I was watching this building go up, all the creation that goes into it, all the energy and effort to make something beautiful in a place that is already beautiful. And then I thought of you and how you would see this. How you would look at something like this and see something amazing and be able to put it into simple words that would capture it perfectly and probably make me laugh and feel inspired all at once.”

“Wow, thanks, Mom.”

“So my epiphany is this: you need to be a writer. You need to write. You don’t need to write about sadness or growing up gay and Mormon or even about being a dad. You need to write about how you can see the world uniquely and use the past and the present and possibility. You could describe a leaf or a cloud or a country and people will want to read it.”

“Wow.”

“I mean, I don’t know how you find a column or something to write for, or how you get paid to write like that. But I know you love it. Maybe it’s a book or a blog or a story, but, son, you need to write. I know you have been searching for something, and I think that is it, and I think it’s the right time.”

“I know, Mom. I’ve been telling you lately how I feel like something big is right around the corner, how something is going to happen and soon, and how I need to be ready for it. I’ve taken a lot of big leaps in my life, and things are working out so far. I don’t know what is next, I just know it is something, and I need to make it happen.”

“Well, listen to your mom. This could be it.”

“Maybe it is, Mom. I’ll give it some thought. Thank you.”

“I love you, son.”

“I love you, too. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

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