1. The belief or the study of design or purpose in nature.
  2. Such design or purpose.

This is religion. The idea that someone is controlling the world, if not now, actively, then before, long before we were born, someone laid down rules for us to follow. It’s scary, and it’s comforting at the same time. This is what religion does for us. It gives us structure to follow. We know what happens each day, each year of our life because religion tells us so. And we know this is right because of our belief in the thing which laid it out. I have never believed this, but sometimes I wish I did. Sometimes, it would be nice to have that kind of trust in the world and my future. Because I don’t know what the fuck is happening right now. A sign.

Yesterday, I started reading a book called Fluent Forever. It’s an intriguing system for learning language, and a lot of it is making sense for me. I recently started up with Duolingo again, working towards being fluent in German. (I believe with French that I’ve already gone so far with learning that I’ll only be fluent when I immerse myself in a French environment. Not that I’ve stopped completely, but I don’t know how beneficial it is to work on two languages at once.) So I was thinking, on my walk home, about getting my UK passport, which would allow me to live and work in any EU country. Even the ones where they speak French and German. Then I stopped in the park to eat my lunch and do my free writing, and I met a little boy named Maverick with his nanny who spoke to him in French so he would grow up bilingual. This felt like a sign. It felt overwhelmingly like some greater power had read my mind and given me this little boy to say, yes, this is what you should do.

All those ideas you have? They’re not just ideas. They are action plans. Make it happen. Don’t wait. There’s nothing to be gained by waiting any longer. Life is happening all around us, and if we keep missing out, then we need to do something to change it. I’ve done this before, and it worked out, and I left before I could give it a chance to give me a sign. Here’s another sign. Don’t give up. Pick something, and stick with it. If I’m going to be a writer, I’m well on my way. I wrote four thousand goddamn words today. If I can do that every day, I can release a short book a week. That is possible. I didn’t know that was possible. But I made that happen. I worked my butt off. I made myself sit in the chair. I made myself type, even when the words felt like crap. Sure, they’re crap now, but I’m going to make them better, later.

Here’s another sign: I’m writing about writing. I’m always writing about writing. Because writing is my true religion. Even when I start out somewhere else, with a different topic, on a different plane, I return here. This is where I always come back. Because I am a writer, and I haven’t figured it out yet. I’m still working on it, so I’m still thinking about it, and until some invisible hand comes down and turns my head in the right direction, I’ll keep writing until the right words come out. That’s all I can do right now. So I just keep doing it.