Stuart Danker

I don’t feel like I can do anything today. But I can breathe. And if I can breathe, I can do something. If I can breathe, I can lift a hand. I can speak. I can walk. I can feed myself.

I can write.

I can write.

I can write.

And I know for a fact that writing has the power to stir. Because I am an audience of this medium as much as I am the performer.

If I can breathe, I can write a book that barely sold ten copies. I can question my choice of vocation, but I can also wake up the next day and try again. I can let others dictate my voice because that pays the bills. I can lose interest in writing, too. Throw away all my dreams and just stop trying.

I can improve my diet, exercise more, spend time with my family, just so I could nurture the creativity that brought me to where I am today.

I can do so many things because I can still breathe. Most importantly, I can write this short piece. And perhaps, in a very weird way, the writing itself is me breathing. A breath I’ve been holding for a very long time.