(Warning! A pity party in the making below, lacking humor and even sarcasm..Had to happen)
Not sure how I found myself looking down the barrel of yet another year. I’ve clearly been an absentee parent to this blog… busy parenting my human children I guess.
As with every new start there is that feeling of hope, energy, and optimism. Why will this year be different? I grumpily asked myself New Year’s morning. I’m not sure, maybe it won’t be, ok if history normally repeats itself, it’s not looking good. But I am hopeful, optimistic and energized right now, so I going to roll with it. Life is moving faster and faster and I find myself missing out on more and more opportunities, if I don’t do SOMETHING different what will it all really have been about? Is this it? Is this what I am destined to be? If so, it’s not horrible, just kind of… bleh. Really? Am I not worthy of something more than that? At least if I was some quirky free-spirited wanderer of the earth kind of gal, at least I’d have good stories to tell. Nope. I’m a wife. A mom. An occasional runner- Yogger really- I’m slow. An HR Manager ( does it get any more boring than that?). I’m a daughter to aging parents. A friend to wonderful women who I don’t see enough. A worrier. A scaredy cat. What a sad list.
So here I sit. More fearful of doing nothing than taking the risk. It’s January 2019. I’m breaking my cycle. I am sitting at a huge table in the”sitting room” at The Lighthouse Writer’s house. A first for me ( Yes, been a member for 3 years), and every time I’ve entered this house for classes or readings I’ve felt like I was walking into my home, surrounded by so many of “my” people. So today is the start of my capital R- RESET. I KICKED MY OWN ASS into a year- long commitment. I will give this writing thing a full fledged, real deal effort and see where it takes me. It started with a class ” The Day Long, Kick Butt, Get Your Writing Year in Order” class and I am moving forward with a plan. One hour per day, minimum, and I will produce a draft of sorts ( it will be R-O-U-G-H) by year’s end and I’ve committed to share said rough draft with a writer’s group for feedback. Everything the instructor said in that class spoke directly into my soul. That place I hide my inner self, the one I ignore pretty religiously, and often quash the hushed whispers that pop up and remind me of the painful truth, YOU are not doing your life work. You have left your calling unanswered. Sad. NO really, so sad. If you can’t manage to listen to your own heart and protect those dreams, who will? So here I am, and not for the first time. I know this. But if I don’t try? Then what?