What would it be worth to write your magnum opus? If the devil offered you a deal, what then? Would you accept? Your eternal soul for writing something of significance? Something that would save your name from oblivion. That would let you rise above the human herd. That would let you have a thought that was all your own. Would you do it?
Does it actually matter to you how people knew your magnum opus was a magnum opus? Like, accepted all at once as a major work in the field? Or would you be happy for it be a slow burn? A cult favourite? Something shared among the ones really in the know – the cognoscenti. The philosophical elite. Imagine: you’d be a philosopher’s philosopher.
You want the way to be clear so you can try to write your magnum opus. You’ve cleared away the obstacles. You’ve no excuse. You have your job. The years open ahead of you. Time to begin your major work, your life’s work. What you’ll be known for.
What if you can’t write it, do you ever wonder that? What if you’ve got nothing to say?
What will be your consolation prize in life, if you can’t do it? What will you get for being a runner-up? Will you disappointed in yourself? If you never quite make it, I mean. When will you give in? Give up?
Work in Progress 