Shifting Slowly

And so here I am again, blogging.  You always seem to go back to your 1st passion, don’t you? I have this reoccurring theme in my life where I take all these other roads that lead me away from writing because the voice in my head is always telling me, “but what are you going to do with this writing?”  And so that voice leads me away from doing what comes so naturally to me, what heals me and what I know I ultimately am amazing at.  I allow that voice to take me on these vast journeys only to read someone else’s blog or writing and thinking, “well damn, I could’ve done that!”  At which point I kick myself in the ass for quitting or giving up on my writing.

I’ve been a writer for over 20 years now and in those 20 years all I’ve done is write, save it in a file and store it away for the next time I get in a writing mood. I annoy myself about it.  It is what I love and I know that it ultimately is what will bring me full healing in my life, to just write.  Write out all the shit I’ve gone through.  Write out all the highs and lows.  Write out all my honesty without fear of who will see and read it because it’s my story, it’s what happened, so what am I so afraid of writing it for?

So I’m here again, giving it another go and tell that voice to shut the fuck up because I’ve got stories to tell and they’re good and powerful and healing and they’re mine.  I’ve done a lot of growing up these past 3 years, mostly from a bad fall into depression.  This time the fall was so hard I wasn’t even sure I’d of made it out alive. Yet, here I am.  Alive, well and never in a place, I thought I’d be; happy, content, vigor for life, hopeful, honest and in love with myself.  Learning to love myself in ways I never thought was possible to do. Learning to love what I have and not what I think I need.  Learning to love all those parts of me I was always so afraid to let out; the weird and crazy and frank and to the point. The yeller, the crier and the girl that can sit quietly with her thoughts without fear of what they are knowing they’re impermanent. It’s all impermanent.  And because of that, I am not afraid to give this another go and admit that this is what I want my life to be. To write, to take my words to places and into people’s souls.  To touch them the way they touch me.  To heal them, the way they heal me. And ultimately to allow my words the power they deserve and to not hold back any longer.