The Need to Create
Artists, Musicians & Writers Answer an Inner Call
The Call
The desire to write runs deep in me. It was one of the reasons I had to leave my path to the priesthood. I realized I could never fully express myself while wearing the collar—I would be bound by the party line.
It was also part of why I left teaching. And it even played into my decision to walk away from my role as a commissioning editor. Rather than spend my energy publishing other people’s words, I wanted to write my own.
And yet, I often must be dragged—screaming—to the pen or keyboard. Once I start, I’m grand.
If you’re a musician, you need to make music. If you’re a painter, you need to reach for your canvas. As a writer, I need to write. It’s as if, when I write, I exist.
What Endures
Much of what I’ve written—newspaper columns, op-eds, practical guides—was of the moment. I wrote weekly for The Irish Times for seven years, and while only a handful of those articles and columns still hold meaning today, I’m proud of them.
My first book, Men’s Health—The Common-Sense Approach, was translated into several languages, but it could do with a fresh edition. My tobacco cessation guide, Write Way to Stop Smoking, still has value, though it’s now out of print, save for a box of copies I keep at home.
Other works have faded into quiet corners. A book on Muckamore Abbey’s history—perhaps only ever meaningful to those connected with the hospital. A booklet on workplace stress, published by ICTU, still holds relevance, while my NUJ-commissioned book on journalists’ workplace rights is now outdated.
What Lasts
Memoirs, thankfully, don’t date so easily. I’m most proud of the two I’ve written.
The first, In My Gut, I Don’t Believe, took me 26 years to complete. It continues to be serialized in the Irish Freethinker. Just yesterday, I was editing three chapters for the next instalment and was reminded of its worth. It’s a brave, honest account of seminary life in 1980s Ireland and the long journey from religious faith to rational doubt. It explores the psychological toll of outgrowing childhood indoctrination.
My second memoir, Saved by a Woman, matters just as much. Because the battle for freedom didn’t end when I left religious life—it continued in the choices that followed.
Pride in Creation
I’m proud of the songs I’ve written, with Andrea, Bryan, Zac, Corinne, Paul—and Robin, who, I’m glad to say, has now been moved out of intensive care.
I’m proud of the documentary I made with Nicoline Greer for RTÉ: From Belief to Unbelief. It was a finalist at the New York Festivals World’s Best Radio Program Awards in 2013.
I’m proud of this Substack, which I’ve kept up almost every week for over two years. And of the poems I’ve written. And of the ceremonies I once conducted—though I do far fewer now.
Pride in People and Personal Choices
I’m proudest of my adult children—their choices, the people they are, and the people they’re becoming.
I’m proud I left my nine-year path to the priesthood—especially because I never thought I would. I chose intimacy, love, and brave detachment from comfort and security. I’ve walked away from permanent, pensionable posts in favour of truth and personal freedom.
I’ve been blessed in marriage. And I’ve been able to express that love in song—‘Every Moment’, celebrating our engagement, and ‘So Glad I Married You’, my most personal piece of all.
If I Died Tonight...
I hope I have many more years ahead. But if I died tonight, I would die happy. Loved and loving. And having lived my one and only life to the full.
Thank you for the part you play—and hopefully will continue to play—in my life.
Happy days,
Joe
Joe’s acclaimed first memoir In My Gut, I Don’t Believe is available on Amazon in Kindle, Paperback, Hardback and Audible editions. His second memoir Saved by a Woman is available on Amazon in Kindle, Paperback, and Hardback editions.
