Killing Him Softly
I drove the knife into his heart. Ever so slowly. I kept it’s sharp edges there for quite awhile before pulling it out. It wasn’t my intention nor was I even aware. Almost like a dream. After some time I came to consciousness, full of remorse and regret. What had I done?
It was 2004. We had just had our first child and he was working a full time job in internet marketing. He would arise at 6AM, come home at 7PM, play with the baby for an hour before her bedtime, eat dinner and then write until 1AM. It was brutal. He was leaving and coming home exhausted. A slow killing was happening inside him.
I once heard from a wise man that every artist has a gift from Above and that gift needs to be used to the fullest in order for the artist to feel satisfaction and joy. However, the art and the artist was dying. This traditional 9-5, dreary cubicle, punch in and punch out was hindering the artist.
I sat in our small living room, my arms wrapped around our little bambino and pondered and questioned it all. The 3,000 mile move, the long days, tireless nights, expenses of city living, and cramped apartment…it was so the artist could flourish. Then, with a swift blow, I realized it was my fear of relying on the art that was the knife in his pulsing heart.
With wide eyes, I now had to sort through whether or not I was willing to continue to do the killing. Would I let fear drive that knife deeper into the artist’s soul? Was I really willing to let the unknown of the future dictate our life? Yet if the Giver has bestowed such a gift to the artist, shouldn’t it thrive? Wouldn’t the gift be a beautiful present? Shouldn’t I see our life as that?
I let go. The fear, anxiety, control, must-haves and needs that were really just wants – all of it had to go. To make room for faith, possibilities, hope, and surprises. In doing so, the wound healed. The artist found his soul again and purpose and meaning flew back into his life.