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A Critic's Prayer

Whatever happened today, whatever successes, whatever failures, whatever distractions, let it go. There will be another day. And if there is not another day, then it is not worth the worrying anyway. Everything is important. Nothing is important. However ahead in your work, however behind, however productive, however grueling, all is process, all is sacred, all is worthy. All is to be surrendered, even when incomplete. Everything is important. Nothing is important. The true self, the hope of glory, the simple self, the infinite love within—none know of harsh critique. The Beloved is not ultra-critical. But capitalism is. Facebook is. Amazon is. He is. She is. They are. The getaway house. The neighbor’s car. Checklists are. Resolutions are. The airbrushed face on the magazine cover. Everything is important. Nothing is important. No cathedral was built in an hour. A day is made of details, but no detail is ever late. Sifting through distraction, embracing one’s mistakes, is what leads to inspiration, where production has no weight, where being is divorced from doing. A cathedral is still a masterpiece, even if it took one hundred years. Everything is important. Nothing is important. Who is it that says all is meaningless? Is it your failed attempts, your dying dreams, your desperate tries, the unanswered email, the hanging request, your fruitless labor, all the hard work in a puddle of piss beneath your calloused feet? Maybe you should tell the voice that all is meaningful, that you are the cathedral. Everything is important. Who is it that says you could’ve done more? That all is up to you, that you're never enough, that tomorrow you’ll get caught up? That you’re worthless or lacking or lazy or lost? Maybe you should tell it: Nothing is important.

By Stephen Copeland

This article was first published on

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