Have you ever had that feeling when you first start a project, that feeling of excitement and knowingness and confidence that what you are about to create is the most magnificent representation of your passion at that particular moment in time…and then, after feverishly working on that project day after day, month after month, you somehow…lose that momentum? And then comes the inevitable questions of despair as you try to gain it back, Why am I doing this? Who cares? What’s the point?
I’ve felt that way whenever I’ve embarked on an adventure of creativity in any one of its various forms, and have often found that the questions come when I am almost done. When the project is just about to come to fruition–that is when I feel most discouraged, where that particular energy and excitement are just embers of what was once a roaring fire. “Battle fatigue,” if I were to pick a term. But then somehow, no matter how irritated I get with my own pitiful emotions, trying to kick my own a%$@ to keep going, somehow the answers to those horrid questions find their own way to trump any doubt that any time has been wasted: I’m doing this because I have to. I can’t help but do it. I care. And even if I am the only one that does, that’s what’s most important, for I alone am the keeper of my vision. Only I understand the purpose behind which I have embarked. And if I don’t see it through, no one will. And the point? The point is to do it. To finish what you started. To put something out into the world and brand it with the passion of your heart, the journey of your soul, the fury and woe of your mortal fiber regardless of whether or not it’s appreciated or understood. No other reason than it must be done. And if you didn’t do it…well, then it would be wasting time. It would be living a half life rather than to live, simply because my kind of life is one where I cannot help but want to attempt the impossible, to do what others say cannot be done or has never been tried before. And to do it without having any idea of how it can be, yet to do it all the same.
I write this the day my second book, The Father of Lights, is done. It is the novelization of the screenplay to a trilogy I wrote, and I have wondered from time to time why I was doing it. I have wondered what was the point. I have doubted the purpose behind it, and yet somehow, I kept going. And I am glad I did because now, I want to go further. I want to do more. And it’s strange to know that not so long ago, I wondered why it is I bothered. But I’m so glad I did. And I want anyone who is reading this, that has felt the same or is feeling that way now…to keep going. Bother. Finish the lap. Go one more round. Throw another punch. Let your fire burn for all to see, for there is nothing like creating something that defines you at your moment…and to know you were the one who gave it its definition. And I’m not just talking about writing. I’m talking about everything: the journey of life. Following your dream. Living your passion. For at the end of it all, it’s your life and what you did with it in the time you had to live it.
So why do we do it? Why do we dream, create, thrive…and why do we even want to? Because we are meant to live. And it is the dreams of the heart, the stirrings in the soul yearning to truly live that makes us feel alive to want to be and truly do. At least is for me…
The Father of Lights (I suppose my thoughts influenced this scene a bit. Enjoy.)
“Gabriel! You’re a fool!”
“Why? Because I’m willing to take a risk? Putting myself out there to see what the realm holds for me? It’s mine to take. It has nothing to do with you if I fall on my face. It doesn’t matter if anyone believes in me and if I’m capable of doing this. If I’m good enough to do it, I will!” Her eyes are filled with utter fury, “I told you I was going to enter! And now it’s the last fight. The army has been formed! All because one angel stood in my way!”
“Listen to me, Gabriel!”
“I want to fight! Even if I fail!”
Lucifer has never seen her like this before. Instead of embarrassment and shame, her passion overwhelms him, for he has never known before this moment how deep her passion lies. “You are meant for more than fighting, Gabriel. You are a Seraph! You are part of the chain that trickles the knowledge of God down to the remainder of the hierarchy. That is the highest rank in all of heaven, Gabriel! Fighting is beneath you. It is base!”
Gabriel steps to him and looks him dead in the eye. “Then why did you fight Michael?”
Lucifer does not answer her.
“You said it was because you wanted to test your limits. Highest rank or not, there is more for me to do and I know it! I don’t need you to know it! It is up to me alone to believe it and prove it!”
“I don’t want you to fight.”
“It’s not up to you!”
They hear cheers from the crowd chanting Beelzebub’s name. The fight is over. Disappointment falls all over Gabriel’s face. She collapses against a bench, all color drains from her face. “No…”
Lucifer cannot bear to see Gabriel hurt, but this look on her face is one he cannot bear even more. He looks down at her. “Yes, it is. Stand up.”
He quickly takes her hand and pulls her past the canopy and toward the field. Michael is congratulating Beelzebub in the center of the arena. Michael helps Gokor up as the crowd continues to cheer the arrival of the heaven’s second-in-command. Lucifer turns Gabriel around, tightening the leather strap to her belt and adjusting her sheaths.
“You’re going to have to fight Beelzebub.”
She pulls her hair back into a ponytail. “I know.”
“You don’t have to beat him. Just give him a very good fight with every ounce of your being and you’ll be in the army.” He turns her around so that they are face to face. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. Do you understand
Lucifer nods. He pulls his own sword from his sheath and gives it to her; on its hilt is an engraving of a pentagram. “Here. It’s better than yours. It’s made of adamantine.” Lucifer examines her. “You’re ready. Stay here.”
Written by: #CorinaMarie
(Corina Marie Zurcher is an actress, producer and screenwriter.)