They're Nothing Without You
aka 'The Pen'
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The Pen is an artist. The Pen is a writer themself. The Pen is a lawyer and a healer. The Pen is a cartographer, and The Pen makes all the instruction manuals that come with Ikea furniture. The Pen knew Anne Frank and Murasaki Shikibu. The Pen knows the answers to all the questions you have about hieroglyphics because The Pen made them. The Pen knows the meaning of life, and The Pen is Death itself. They have written menus and vows, drawn blueprints, and art. The Pen has changed the world more times than The World could count.
The Pen knows everything.
So they wait patiently for you to lift them and touch them to The Page so all their magic can come flowing out in one way or another. Or one way and another depending. If you allow them to, The Pen can provide.
But that is the challenge. You must allow them. The Pen cannot simply start to do the art or draft the next amendments to the constitution. Without you, The Pen cannot mark the notches of your child’s height on the door frame or cross chores off your to-do list in a way that is almost disturbingly satisfying.
The Pen honors an agreement made long ago. The agreement is that The Pen can carry The Universe's infinite possibilities with them under the condition that they cannot share any of it alone. No matter how perfect the mood or temperature, The Pen cannot manipulate themself and sketch the intimidating yet inspiring skyline of the city on a cold winter afternoon. The Pen knows you can afford it but cannot write the check to a charity themself. The Pen cannot summon the perfect anecdote for your Christmas card. Not alone. The Pen must wait for you.
The Pen is the keeper of information, but you are the key.
Sometimes The Pen feels that you two are the perfect match. You use them every day, you care for them, and you bleed them dry with your passion. The Pen falls in love with you anew with each moment of your together-creation, and it seems that you feel the same. You’ll never tire, never need a pause. You and The Pen are meant for each other, and the things you create are meant for the world. They have a place, they have a purpose, they have a value. The two of you, you and The Pen, you’re going to be together ‘til -
And sometimes there are days where you believe in your heart and soul that The Pen has run dry. That the words will not come and the art isn’t worth it. It is as if a bandit has snuck in and stolen The Pen right out of your hand. Some common crook has robbed you of your talent, your soul, your moxie. You no longer have cartoons or sonnets. You can’t think of a recipe to save your life. You are empty, you are barren, you are an inspiration-dessert made up of a million sand grains. The grains of sand are The Doubt.
On those days, it is not that anything has been taken from you. No, in fact, you are the thief. You are a thief of purpose. You have stolen from The Pen.
On those days, where you “know” that there is nothing to say and no way to change the world, The Pen’s purpose becomes a pain. The agreement that The Pen made so long ago is less like a gift of knowledge and more like a curse. To know everything may be wonderful but to be denied the privilege of sharing is torture. The Pen knows that knowledge is - as power and popcorn and laughter - meant to be shared.
The Pen looks back at you, knowing that you are not vacant. The Pen knows that you are not dry. In fact, The Pen knows what you having boiling up inside, and they love it. They do not judge it. They do not need it to have a plan when it comes out. They simply want you to share it.
The Pen does everything in their power to help with your confidence. They visit Other Writers who trust them implicitly, and they create mirrors. They want you to look in them and see how powerful you can be too. The Pen helps the Other Writers create masterpieces and trash and everything in between. They help Others craft a perfect kernel of beauty that they know you will read. They want you to read it! The Pen helped the Other Writer because they want you to see your own potential. The Pen wants you to fall in love.
Sometimes you do fall in love, and it isn’t what The Pen was intending.
Sometimes you fall in love with that kernel from the Other Writer and carry it around with you like a key to the city. It gives you power and hope, and it colors your dreams. You show it to your friends, and they fall in love with it too. Then, you put the kernel in a box to keep it safe. You make it precious. You give it a value, and the value is high. Perhaps it is too high. You make it untouchable. You give it your power. Somehow, you give the Other Writer your power. Suddenly, this gift that The Pen was trying to give you has become your curse.
Instead of inspiration, the kernel of beauty that The Pen helped bring out to inspire you has made you feel small, short, and low. You look at the kernel, and you marvel, but you also believe that there is no way you could ever create something so perfect yourself. You believe that whoever wrote this is better than you, smarter than you, more deserving than you. You let the thing that you love become the reason that you do not do the thing that you love.
You feel alone, and you can’t see that The Pen is right there waiting for you.
The Pen is a baseball bat ready to shatter the box you’ve put your power into. The Pen will stand back and let you take back your power yourself; only you can do that anyway.
The Pen is a partner when you’re alone. The Pen is a group, a brainstorm, a session, a sprint. The Pen is a well, a tap, a siphon, a battery charger. The Pen is a friend, a lover, a shot of tequila. The Pen is the prompt, the thesis, the key ingredient. The Pen is the antidote, the color, the clue to solving the mystery. The Pen is The Ink, The Magic, and The Heart.
The Pen is waiting.
They say, “Pick me up, and I can help. I can’t do it all for you, but I promise that I can help.”
The Pen can see that you’ve got more inside of you, and they will do everything they can to help bring it out.
They will sing you the song of summer to warm your toes. They’ll go ahead and put your phone on do not disturb. The Pen will be a soft-scented lotion for the cracking knuckles of your right ring finger. The Pen will put together a playlist with just the right vibe. They will leave a cardigan on the back of your chair just in case. They will do whatever it takes to be a part of what you have waiting.
Because remember
The Pen knows everything.
And The Pen has everything.
Except for one thing
Except you.
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