I recently read that the hands of a human embryo begin as webbed, spade-like flippers until cell death sculpts individual little fingers.

Nature is a master sculptor.

Another master sculptor, Michelangelo, was once asked how he had created his masterpiece, David. His answer: โ€œI looked at the stone and removed all that was not David.โ€

Writers do this, too. We pull details from the infinite and organize them in linear form to tell a story. Even the worldโ€™s oldest bestseller gives a nod to the creative process when, in chapter one, the Divine Architect fashions earth from the โ€œformless and void.โ€

There is a powerful lyric from the Avett Brothers โ€œHead full of doubt/Road full of promise,โ€ a song introduced to me by my friend Sheena when I was still struggling to transcend the straitjacket of my criminal past and evolve into something more. Itโ€™s this: โ€œDecide what to be and go be it.โ€

Simple yet powerful. Thatโ€™s whatโ€™s up. As much as we try to convince ourselves that we are fixed and stagnant, that this is just the way we are, the way weโ€™re wired; the truth is we are really the waveform in particle physics existing in a state of pure potential, primordial sludge, unwritten music, blank sheets of paper, unchiseled stone, works-in-progress tricked into believing we are finished products. It is our mission โ€” and our inheritance as offspring of the Original Creator โ€” to go forward and create our best selves.

In the timeless words of James Allen, โ€œThe oak sleeps in the acorn.โ€