The Beginning...

"That's the trouble with telepathy, you know. Most of the time the lines are down." -Jane Smiley

When I read this line in Jane Smiley's A Thousand Acres, a modern retelling of Shakespeare's King Lear, I thought that somewhere out there, a telepathic line might be connecting me to the author. The line ricocheted from the back of my throat to the top of my head and from ear to ear. I was prompted, then, to reach into my nightstand and extract a notebook that holds scores of quotations from the pens of best-selling authors, folk musicians, canonical writers, and even me. This notebook is like a jewelry box containing precious heirlooms and I revisit it sporadically, especially in moments of inspiration, weakness, or transition.

Today is one of the latter days.

Tomorrow, at 9a.m., I will begin what may be a new chapter in my life - I am going to try my hand at publishing - a seemingly related field. For now, it looks like a sales position, but, as I understand it, there is room for growth and right now I'd like nothing more than to grow.

Skepticism is always the result, and sometimes the cause, of these moments of flux. Have I not been receptive to those around me? Has my telepathic line been out of order because of my self-doubt and fear-of-the-future? Is this all a mistake? I wish people talked about this telepathy thing and said things like, "Are you ready to connect with me now?" and you'd sit or stand face to face and tune into one another. Then again, telepathy might just be another way of saying "truth" and losing your fear of telling it. It seems like decorum and protocol stand in between us.

Tomorrow, my lines won't be crossed and I'll see where they take me.