Each morning, it is not your job.
It is not your job to get all that every could be done, accomplished.
It is not your job to solve all of the world’s problems or even to conquer all the problems that that come through on The New York Times feed, pre-coffee or worse yet, the ones that linger beyond that into your own mind’s recessees.
It is not your job to hold all the orphans or to muzzle all the growling dogs that strayly attack the children.
It is not your job to save the world. Or even your street.
It is in your line of duty to calm every stray hair, unkempt eyebrow, or vague expression.
It is not your job to look at your To-Do list and feel equally passionate about each activity.
It is not your job to feel passionate at all. But you will.
It is not your job to, equally, be lazy, to absolve yourself from responsibility or worry yourself by becoming the center of attention. But you may.
It is not your job to entertain the world.
It is not your job to make others behold you in your beauty.
It is not your job to make others do anything.
It is not your job to band-aid all the knees around you that have fallen to the wayside.
It is not your job to calm the winds.
It is not your job to pretend that everything is your job. To take on the cape of superman or the messiah. To create flawless creations that will make others stand and gasp.
It is not your job to be perfect.
It is not your task to be your own task-masker.
Your task is to open your arms. To trust. To let Love in. To believe in grace. And to return to your true work. That which makes you come alive, so that you may be alive for others.
Each Lenten season, we are presented with 40 days. 40 days to rearrange the priorities in our lives. To give things up. To take things in.
Each Lent, I take on a 40 day writing project. I vow to wake up each morning and write 700-1000 words. Even if I have nothing to say.
Even if it is far from perfect. Even if I repeat myself.
Because it is not my job to be perfect.
Lent reminds us of this. And so often we get stuck creatively because we are worried of starting in perfection or ending in perfection, that we never begin and we never end. And so we do nothing.
This is an experiment. One step at a time. Because 40 days will pass whether we are active or not. The only difference is whether we will have a way to remember it.
If you’ve been looking for ways to “unstick” yourself, join me. Commit to spending the next 40 days putting pen to paper. Whether its a short story, a novel, a poem, hate mail, complaint letters, get the typewriter out. I’ll be there with you. Let’s try this together and see what magic comes of it. Let’s share what is working and what isn’t. It’s all an experiment. But one which ends in a potential resurrection of all that has been on hold in your life.
And remember, just keep dreaming.