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Okay, this might sound strange and could almost be perceived as the beginnings of some type of mental illness but the reality is this, I've tried many things and I think this might work. I've decided to hire myself as an employee and my job is to write at least 10 to 15 hours per week. Not only will I reward myself with a financial incentive (chai latte, new eBook, running gear, flowers or a movie), I will make it my business to submit the well written work to publications for consideration.
It has all come to heads today because I keep beating my head against the wall with questions like, who am I? What is my life suppose to be like? What is my purpose? How am I to get to where I think I'm supposed to be? And when I'm able to settle my 'monkey mind' for more than one second, the answer comes rushing into my spirit and instinctively I know that my true purpose is to write. But I was born in the late 1960's with a rebellious flower child-like spirit and as my mother used to say, "I'm hard-headed." And then there are the haunting words from one of the few times I interacted with my father, "Don't let you mouth write a check that you butt can't cash," I hope by putting this in writing, actions will follow because I'm not willing to spend anymore time talking about something I don't make time to do.
I promise to start simple, like with one word and then another word and then others. I promise to be present to this internal passion for mixing words together and finally, I promise to simply let the blank page awaken with whatever the mental energetics of my finger tips produce. I feel Cinderella who has been given an invitation to a grand party but doesn't feel good enough to attend. Well, with raged granola crunchy clothes, working class underpinnings, Midwest arrogance and nappy hair that gets caught on the edges of things, I take a leap of faith and cling to the hem of my passion, hoping, wishing and praying that it has an equal amount of strength to keep me on other side where I suppose to be. Once and for all, I fulfill my life's purpose and experience the perpetual joy that writing provides when I partner with it in our sacred, sexual and soulful dance. Wish me the ability to be in this moment.
