Todays Confession...

I have come to another realization on this journey to find myself and my creativity, is that things are getting tougher. It’s getting down to the nitty gritty why I think I am the way I am. I am learning to understand my needs. I have lived much of my life in the dark, in ignorance of what others think, feel, and because of those experiences, I have restrained myself.

I had insights at fifteen years old that I would seize again at another time and lose because I didn’t have the intellectual framework in which they would fit and be retained. I feared offending those who loved me, or those I wished to please. Shame can also get in the way of creativity. We all have the notions of what we should be, and sometimes we are ashamed of what moves us or how much we are moved. At other times, we feel we ought to have been moved and we try to pretend.

These are some of the things I have learned on my journey:

§ I believe the desire to be better can choke off the desire to just BE.
§ Judging my early writing efforts is a form of abuse.
§ When I feel blocked in my life, it's because I feel safer that way.
§ My creativity and writing is a healing process for mind and soul.
§ As I gain strength through my writing, I also start attacking myself with more self-doubt.
§ I can deal with these strange attacks when I see them as only a form of self-discovery.
§ Most of all, I cannot afford to think about who is getting ahead of me.
§ Don't compare your style of writing with anyone else's. That's what makes every writer unique.
§ Finally, I make big mistakes, the one's that carry regrets. It is a great thing to find a like mind and soul. It's a gift that needs to be cherished, a common bond that helps one heal the other…and I let it go.

Another confession…I am needy. I need to talk about things, all sorts of things, trivial and important, and this drives my other half crazy. I need to argue back, but I remain quiet. I need him to share his feelings too. I need to tell him why I need to be alone. I need him to tell me I still look the same in his eyes before my hair turned gray. My mind screams to the point I feel like my head will explode, but remain silent. I need to tell him to touch my face, look into my eyes, and see me for what and who I am and always was. I need to tell him, “don't go, stay” when I need to talk. I wish I could tell him why I want to run away and not look back. I need, like most of us, to be needed.

I read once, "As artists (writers included), we are travelers." Our minds wander (as you can read from the things I write). Our fingers turn raw from writing of far off things. We even struggle with dreams and reality. We want to make a difference. We need (there’s that word again) to learn to stop comparing ourselves to others and quit saying, “what's the use,” when we self doubt our aspirations.

Peace Everyone...