Monday, November 14, 2011

The TRIFECTA of Inspiration

I had the trifecta of inspiration this weekend. Well, okay one of them didn't happen this weekend, but I'm going to count it because trifecta of inspiration sounds cool.

So first of all, I'm not the best behaved 23-year-old in church. If I go by myself I'm probably fine, but the problem is that I usually go with my brother and sister. There's just something about us all sitting there that turns us into children. Ergo, after about 5 minutes of homily I tend to space out, sometimes playing this stupid game with my brother that is way too difficult to explain on here so I won't.

This week, we went to a "family mass" at our church. Basically during the homily, the priest sits on the floor and has all of the little kids come up to the front and directs the message to them. Besides the fact that this little girl could not stop repeating her answer to "What is your talent?" (her answer was fixing the bed. Really? That's all you've got?) this message actually clicked with me.

Basically the idea was that everyone has talents and at the end of your life God is going to ask you what you did with those talents. Now whether or not you believe in God is your own business, but even if you take that out of the equation the message still kind of sticks. The priest basically asked the congregation "What the hell are you going to do with your life?"

A conversation every teenager dreads.

So, I immediately thought "Huh. I'd say my talent is writing. At least it's what I love to do." Then the homily was over and I was playing again.

Later that day, I was laying on the couch, watching some brain-rotting TV with my brother and he said "You used to write stories, right?"

"Yeah."

"I remember some of them. You should do that again."

It was such a simple statement, but combined with the priest it really hit me. I SHOULD do that again. Little does he know that I am writing, since, for some reason, I can't bring myself to let anyone know. It made me want to get really really serious about my writing. 

The third thing is the death of my friend in August. A 19-year-old, perfectly healthy person, who just didn't wake up one morning. Life is short, people. Every day is a gift.

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