This year I indulged in a daily desk calendar—an indulgence because I know that sometimes it will sit for days, forgotten, stuck on Tuesday while the rest of try to steal some sleep on Sunday morning. An indulgence in another way, too, because it’s billed as being an “inspirational calendar for working women”, which makes me roll my eyes but secretly sounds really nice—if it can really inspire me.

Yesterday’s entry made me glad I bought that chunk of paper and plastic backing. It had a quote from Henry Van Dyke: “Use what talents you possess. The woods soul be very silent if no birds sang except those that sang best.”

I’ve never heard this particular quote before. I love it—what artist wouldn’t? It gives us permission to keep creating even when we know full well that we’re not at the top of the heap, or even near it. Do your best. It’s enough. Don’t be ashamed to share your best efforts with the world.

I have this lovely vision, now, of writers perched in a strange forest of trees—all different sorts: fruit trees, towering pines, thick-canopied oaks. Everyone is working away, intent, pages fluttering to the forest floor in a light constant rain. Every kind of story is on those pages. Imagine yourself walking through that forest—how the floor would be soft under your feet, cushioned by years of other writers’ efforts. Imagine how you’d be a little taller, on that cushion, and a little closer to the first foothold that waits in your own tree. Pick your tree. Look around at all those other writers, birds of every sort of feather. Then turn your eyes to your own story and write.

You’re not alone---and you are worthy.