A year ago, I dropped out of design school to get married and publish a novel. It was one of the weirdest, most terrifying decisions of my life. I’ve changed more in the last year than in the previous twenty-five—or maybe I’m just feeling dramatic today. Regardless, I want to share with you a few meditations.

1. Relationships are always more important. As an obsessive-compulsive creator, I have to learn this lesson again and again every day. Our culture has taught us to make something of ourselves and follow our dreams and be rock stars. Lady Gaga cut this seemingly harmless sentiment to its awful core with the famous quote, “…your career will never wake up and tell you that it doesn’t love you anymore.” Oh, she was so wrong. My writing career wakes up a good three days out of seven and tells me to go to hell. If I had chosen to marry it, rather than Danae, I would have already descended into abject misery. As it is, I am learning to live a balanced life—one which puts loved ones ahead of creativity. This prioritization is essential because…
2. Art is a gift. Art is not a way to get famous, make money, or wield cultural influence. Neither is it strictly self-expression. It is a gift of healing which, if you are a creator, you are called to give away to other people. Rather than trying to make a splash or impress people, you should just listen to that inner painter-poet. If you are truly a creator, that inner painter-poet will speak. The best thing you can do is get out of the way and let it flow—through yourself, out, and into the world, where it can change a mind or a heart or even a life. Getting out of the way becomes easier when you realize that…
3. You are a funny person. Taking yourself super-seriously is dumb. The way you look, talk, dress, think, act, post, write, sing, and play is kinda funny. Unique, quirky, beautiful, intrinsically and metaphysically full of gravitas (since it is a sincere human expression), and yet funny beyond belief. You don’t have to make an impression on people. You don’t have to come across right. You are silly and excellent, just the way you are. It’s important to remember this, because you’ll soon discover that…
4. Your work is not as good as you think it is. Not gonna lie, I thought The Tower of Babel was revolutionary. I still know it’s mildly unique in literature, but when I published it, I thought it was the bee’s knees. However, consistent feedback from confused readers has shown me that I tend to live (and write) in my own head. Nobody can experience the network of my thoughts, the interconnectedness of everything in my fiction or in my picture of How Life Works, unless I give people a little help. This was the lesson I had to learn a year ago, and my blindness to it then tells me that I am blind to another lesson right now—and that I will be blind again and again, for a long time, maybe till I die. When this gets too hard to handle, I simply reread number 3 above. But I find I can get over it from another angle too, because…
5. You, the person, are better than you think you are. This one comes with an asterisk: if you commune with God and let him make you beautiful. On your own, yes, you are the sum of your failures; you are a drunk in the gutter at 2 AM. But sing hallelujah from the gutter, and damn well mean it, and you just might be moving towards God. It’s the only thing you were ever meant to do. You’ll find this path more fulfilling than trying to make a splash because, no matter how hard you try…
6. Nobody wins. Selling more ebooks (more than what? Than whom?) isn’t winning. Playing more shows isn’t winning. Pushing people away because you have serious art things to do isn’t winning. If there is any confusion, see numbers 1 and 3 above.

Don’t get me wrong: I haven’t arrived yet. But I have begun to see. I hope I’ve helped you to see, too.