Do you ever have those days when you feel like everything you do is pointless? That no matter how hard you try at life, it just doesn’t seem to go your way? Many of you know I’ve had a heck of a time the last year soul searching and reacquainting myself to me. I left behind my dream of building a virtual reality gift boutique and started healing my heart and mind through writing.
Let me tell you, the vulnerability that comes along with writing at such a low point in life is not easy. But, for me, it’s been necessary, and the most consistent lifeline during this tough period. I know some of you may be appalled at the idea of me not turning to my faith at such a critical point. But, I have to be honest with you, I have questioned my faith over and over and over throughout the years, and the last 12 months were no different. Thankfully, I view my questioning as a sign that my faith is still alive, that it still means something to me, to have and hold on to. Once I quit asking, then I fear my faith has left me.
I know I am extremely independent, but that also means there are many days I feel extremely lonely. And when you try so hard to build something new and lack the infrastructure and support necessary to accomplish it, an independent person like me recluses back to what is most natural and comfortable – to oneself, to their own reasoning, logic and view of the world and their place in it. Somehow the hurt, pain and misunderstanding must be processed. Alone.
And so I wrote.
Or, rather typed. One-on-One with Mr. MacBook.
I wrote to dig deep within my psyche and reveal the wonders of my mind. To explore the thoughts that I’d suppressed for days, months and even years. To show the strength and vitality of my being as I overcame the challenges of my life. And, I wrote to decipher and answer the questions that sat perched at the top of my heart, causing flutters and missed beats.
After awhile, I felt like my writing was this ugly, overgrown toenail that needed to be removed. I wanted to get over the pain that I’d buried away most of my life and be done with it. There was little to no sympathy, or empathy, that I gave myself. And I thought I just needed to quit, before I had to face the possibility of another losing dream in my vagabond life.
So, I pulled back. I forced myself to find other ways to occupy my mind. To relieve myself of the depth and perception of where I was headed. I saved myself from failure and from writing a novel that sucked so bad no one would ever want to read it. But, I never fully let go. And, even though I questioned my faith and my motive for prayer, I cried out to God to show me the way. What am I doing here?
I never really expected an answer, or even a sign. I just expected to feel like it’s out of my control. I’m too busy with the kids back-to-school, getting started freelancing for a local start-up, enjoying the last few months of living in Hamburg and spending time with the friends I have here, etc., etc., etc. Sending up a prayer helped me acknowledge that I can’t control everything in my life and I need to let some things go. So, I decided my writing needed to go – for now. The market is so full of better authors, and I have no motivation to promote myself or this blog.
That’s what I’ve been wrestling with the last few days. Allowing myself to grieve another dream and come to terms with where my life is right now. To stop living in the past and the future, but to enjoy this moment right now.
And, then, I won a writing contest this morning and received a free class with Gotham Writers. The irony of timing is not lost on me, that’s for sure. Whether it’s a sign from above, or just a little hand of encouragement, I’m going to take it.
Because I need it.
The story continues, my friends, as the lesson of my life is unfinished.
Until next time,