Melodramatic, I know.
Unfortunately, it’s also true.
I read somewhere that when you finally start to move forward on your journey to being your most authentic self, the universe will step in to make sure it’s really friggin hard to do it. I had hoped this would be incorrect IRL. I have now come to find out it’s pretty damn accurate.
I’m in the process of my creative recovery and the first month has been really difficult. The emotions that run through me on the daily regarding my writing practice, my ability to write (or lack thereof) and my ambitions (or possible delusions of grandeur) are overwhelming. I was warned about this. I just didn’t believe it.
I’ve been following the Artist’s Way to the letter, using the morning pages as my personal bitch fest and my weekly artist dates as an excuse to go to the library and smell old books. (Do not judge me.) I have wrung my sad little heart through the wash this past month but, I’m finally feeling up to writing more than just my 750 words and positive affirmations every morning. (Yes, I do positive affirmations. Trust me, I’ve improved. This is improved…)
It may not be pretty, but it is real.
And I will keep my head up and my heart open and I will keep writing this shit until it works itself out.
Please excuse the rant. It’s just been a long day.
Heading to bed tonight hoping for a better tomorrow…