by
Years ago I picked up Annie Dillard’s book, The Writing Life. Chapter one begins with a quote from Goethe, “Do not hurry. Do not rest.” I’ve carried that sentiment with me, especially in seasons of transition when I am attempting to balance grief, presence, and anticipation. I’m knee-deep in one of those seasons now, leaving a community I’ve been a part of for a decade to enter into my own version of the writing life. Recently, I’ve felt like Ebenezer Scrooge, lost in memory and imagination of what is past, what is now, and what is to come.
Past
I came across a Facebook memory of a Bob Dylan concert I attended with my dad in August 2012. We lived in an apartment downtown with a path leading to the concert venue, so we decided to walk. My dad had been diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer a year earlier. He’d lost some weight, but was fighting it well, still doing the things he loved, at least that’s what I thought. I remember seeing him struggle to walk that night, and lamenting that I didn’t anticipate his pain and call a cab instead.
My dad loved Bob Dylan. At my wedding, we even chose “Forever Young” for our father-daughter dance. At one point during the concert I looked at my dad’s thinning face as he stood beside me. I could see that he was trying to take in as much of the music as he could. I felt a sudden wave of emotion, a realization that something was going to change soon, that we wouldn’t be able to go to concerts, or do many of our favorite things together for much longer. I started to cry, in sadness, but also in thanksgiving for that exact moment in time. I stepped behind him so he couldn’t see me. My tears were masked by the music, the twilight, and the crowd.
Present
It is June 2024, and with the blessings of my family and well wishes of colleagues and friends, I have taken a leap of faith, leaving my full-time job to focus on writing a book about me, my parents, love, and faith. After I have spent decades building a career in fundraising, this transition is an answer to a call deep within me to share my story. It’s been 11 years since my dad died, just a year after that Dylan concert. As I discerned the call to write, I could hear his voice encouraging me to do what I am meant to do.
Sara, do not hurry. Do not rest.
My dad took lots of leaps of faith early in his life, joining the Air Force out of high school, falling in love with my mom in the Philippines, marrying her, bringing her and my brothers to America, and starting his own business right out of college. It’s taken me a little longer to discover (or re-discover) what I love to do, and build up the courage to take the leap to do it. But all along, I’ve felt supported, I’ve known that I have my dad’s heart and his faith.
Future
In a few summers, I will be 50 years old. I have moments when I wonder if it’s too late for leaps of faith, but then I remember the mystery of time, the patience and perseverance required for its fullness. There is a Chinese proverb that says, “The best time to plant a tree is 20 years ago. The second best time is now.” It is not too early or too late.
As I leap into writing and plant new seedlings with my words, I can’t help but imagine what fruit will come forth. I see a beautiful book in my hands, and in the hands of family, friends, and strangers. I imagine it will be filled with stories grounded in the roots of my mom and dad’s love, stories that challenge and inspire. I imagine it will help people to see, it will give them a glimpse of a life of faith.
So now I’ll take cues from Ebenezer on Christmas morning. Inspired by these memories and imaginings, I’ll move forward with love, wonder and joy. I will not hurry, and I will not rest.
Sara Fichtner is a Hoosier-Filipina writer, reader, and cultural connector. She writes from her experience navigating the in-between spaces searching for connection. “In the Mix with Sara” is her quarterly Substack letter filled with writing and resources on connecting through culture. Sara and her Argentine husband have two sons and are short-term foster parents to immigrant children journeying to connect with family in the U.S. You can connect with her on Instagram @_sarafichtner and Facebook at @writersarafichtner.
A lovely essay, Sara.