Friday, August 26, 2016

It's a Matter of Trust

Last year was so frenetic, that although I fretted often, things happened so quickly that I didn't have time to brood. I have more time to brood right now, to stress, to worry, to ruminate about all the worst case scenarios ... none to write of course, but plenty to contemplate the many ways things can go wrong.

Much as I am trying to free my mind of doubt, it keeps going back and back to fear. History bears out that everything works out in the end and that all will resolve itself in wonderful ways and I am blessed. It's almost as though by stressing, I feel I am participating in the cosmic maneuvering required for the universe to unfold as it should.

In the end, despite all the lamentation, I trust. I believe that everything works out for me in a positive way... because it always has. I believe that despite my worrying, the best is yet to come and will be here soon. I believe that little setbacks are setting me up for greater things. I am grateful for all that I have and all the great things that are on their way. I whine, I complain, I worry... but I trust.
Thank you. 

Thursday, August 18, 2016

Just do it

All the writing advice in the world is summed up in that one line.

And yet the internet is filled with writers and would-be writers lamenting the fact that they aren't ...or in many cases, that they literally feel like they can't. As you are well aware by now, I've been amongst them.

By now, I've done enough navel-gazing that I know all of the things holding me back and I've invented even a few more and honestly, I'm getting tired of the excuses.

I have a FB 'Friend' who made a decision to just write, from 5 am - 7am every day, and she's doing it. It's becoming a habit. It's so easy to establish bad habits, not so with good ones, but obviously she's onto something.

This morning... again as I drove in to work, I had the urge to write. My intention was to open up the word processor and start writing the second I got in. I've been here an hour and done everything but. I've certainly developed the habit of not following through.  

Friday, July 29, 2016

Nope


Why does the blank page intimidate me so much. It's important to me, and yet each time I go to open up the word processor, I stall. Actually, it used to be that I'd open up the word processor, lately, I don't even get that far. I have my finger on the mouse, hovering over the icon... and if I know it's for writing... nope.

I have the time.
I have the resources at my finger tips.
I have the experience.
And still.
Hesitation.

The above quote appears to be true. It seems true. It makes sense. But writing is important to me. And still I manage to make excuses. I don't think it's as simple as it seems. I think things can be so important to you that you avoid them out of... yes... here's that word again... fear.

It's different talking to myself on this blog. I can say whatever I like and there is no editor... not even me. I just talk. With writing writing, the expectation of an audience is ever-present. It's the game changer. It's the excuse.

Maybe I should just start talking to myself.

 

Thursday, July 28, 2016

Courage

There is a whole world out there filled with tragedy and by comparison, I am well blessed. Most of us, regardless of pain or trials, would never choose to switch lives with someone else, even someone we feel is better off in any of the ways we hope for ourselves. I think what I'm looking for is the courage to live my life differently...although I'm not really sure what that means.

When I compare my life to the lives of my peers, I realize that so many of the choices I've made or did not make were out of fear. Fear of the circumstance, fear of other people's reactions, fear of failure... whatever. Fear has been the driving force in my life. That and guilt.

When Winter Comes has a protagonist much like me. She lets things happen to her rather than making choices and taking chances. Maybe that's why the book hasn't been a success. It resonates with me, but most people want a hero. They want someone who does something... not someone things just happen to.

We aren't all doers though. The world is a mix of those who act, those who react and those who just stand and wait. Much as quiet, stable inertia is my preferred state, I'm can't keep living like this. But when you've trained yourself not to move, you don't move. Habit digs in and you wait.

Lord help me.


 

Monday, July 25, 2016

Bleak House vs Mansions

The people who live happy, peaceful, trouble-free lives are missing out. It's almost sad.

While it's lovely to live in a world for which you are perfect, and is seemingly perfect for you, there is a joy in discovery that can only be truly felt when you have been at the abyss and are looking both backward and forward, knowing where you have been and seeing where you have yet to go. When I am facing the abyss, I envy those who have lived calm, sweet lives and who've only known security. But once I've struggled past, climbed over or otherwise conquered whatever it was that held my mind in such a dour place, the peace that comes from facing down your demons, that peace defies all understanding.

I'm not there yet but I have a better understanding today than I did yesterday. It's about echoes and responses and God. It's all been there all along and bit by bit I'm more open to it and I know, that once I've grasped it and plugged in... it will be electrifying. Maybe it's nicer to have lived such a life that you never need that, or where you understood from the start... but for me the journey is what makes the destination a triumph.

There is a bleak house or there is a mansion. You get to choose. Once you do, life will never be the same. I know it. I'm almost there.
 

Thursday, July 21, 2016

In search of peace

When you work, you are forced to shove aside your life and focus on your job for that portion of your day. There is no choice if you want a pay cheque at the end of the week. I do that easily... Sure I get a little distracted at times, maybe even mess up, but mostly I'm able to move my personal life into that locked portion of my brain until I leave for the day. I slowly crack it open again when I head home, sorting out feelings and ideas and thoughts that I've successfully kept at bay (mostly) for the day.

Writing is a choice. It's a luxury. It requires much more energy, dedication, emotion, thought, dedication, focus.. than work. It provides a different, more lasting and sustaining reward than money... and because of that, when my mind is filled with the chaos of my life, I don't write. Consciously. It's a choice. A painful but very necessary choice. Sometimes when I post complaining about not being able to write, the truth is, I feel too guilty to write. I feel like devoting time to something I love is wrong. It makes me feel like I'm failing to take life seriously enough. When my mind is filled with the sometimes awful distractions that are my world, although I'm not solving problems or actively doing anything to make things better, holding onto them in my brain and going over them and over them and over them is sometimes the only comfort I have ... the only way I can feel like I have control over them and that I am not just ignoring them. It's almost penance.

I think I'm done with writing. There just doesn't seem to be anything left. I still have the stories in my head but I have no way to deliver them, not with the way I feel. I know I haven't expressed it well ... but the noise in my head clutters my brain. I can silence it when I have to, for money, because money is life. But I can't quiet the noise for me. I don't deserve it. That's just how it is.

Amen
 

Monday, July 18, 2016

Mourning time wasted

For nearly six months I had weekends . . . and there have been at least a couple of hours each day here when I could have been writing. I didn't.

All the excuses in the world won't bring back the time that I've wasted lamenting that I can't.

And now that time comes abruptly to a halt. This weekend past, I did nothing. I guess because I knew it was my last. It was my little foot stomp. My vague protestation. It's over. It's painful even to think about it but I have no more weekends until G-d knows when.

I should have... I'm good at that. Knowing what I should have done. There is still time. I'll only be working the same hours I have here and I'll be so much closer to home that I'll be back in no time... it's just the idea. But the money is something I can't pass up.

I knew it was coming. But I couldn't have done anything different. The words weren't there. Much as I'd like to have committed that time to something productive, I can't produce from nothing and there was nothing there.

Life has a way of taking you where you need to be. Hopefully this next turn on the road will lead me to the destination I've been hoping for.