The grand scheme of a life, maybe (just maybe), is not about knowing or not knowing, choosing or not choosing. Perhaps what is truly known can’t be described or articulated by creativity or logic, science or art — but perhaps it can be described by the most authentic and meaningful combination of the two: poetry: As Robert Frost wrote, a poem “begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It is never a thought to begin with.”
I recommend the following course of action for those who are just beginning their careers or for those like me, who may be reconfiguring midway through: heed the words of Robert Frost. Start with a big, fat lump in your throat, start with a profound sense of wrong, a deep homesickness, or a crazy lovesickness, and run with it.” —Debbie Millman, Look Both Ways: Illustrated Essays on the Intersection of Life and Design
Overall I’m not a fan of Kerouac’s frenzied writing style, but every so often I came across a gem like this one in On the Road— a great passage that perfectly encapsulates the temporary insanity of punch-drunk love.