I want to toot my own horn here for a moment. I woke up yesterday in a good determined mood. I did extra things that I had wanted to incorporate into my schedule for a while. I even ate really good organic food, that I had prepared before hand and brought with me to work, all day. I felt really good about it except when it came to go to Zumba exercise class at the end of the day. For some reason I decided I wasn’t going to go.
I made plans, got clothes, water, everything ready, why didn’t I go to Zumba. I choose instead to stay home and read. I did read but I also analyzed why I did that.
I want to be skinny and beautiful, like I was when I was thirty. The problem is I cannot be beautiful like I was back then. I can only be beautiful as I am now. I look in the mirror. My hair is dull and not so full. My face is a little droopier with some wrinkles around the eyes. No matter how much I workout, the middle of me is just so stubborn, it’s like another appendage. I feel that I can’t even eat a cookie, that if I ate that one stupid little cookie, my stomach will stay forever. Can you imagine the helpless, hopeless feeling of that? Someone that eats their emotions can’t even eat a cookie to feel better. This reality is what I deal with on a daily basis. It is harsh indeed. At what point did I wake up and the vibrancy, energy and grand hopes that I once had, had diminished almost in half. And very unexpectedly too, I just woke up one day and things were upon me. Age.
Even while I struggle with my age, it has become apparent what I must do. I do have choices, hard choices but choices none the less. Facing those realities is part of that choice. (Sometimes I don’t want to face it) *Whine.*
There is so much I still want to accomplish, but time passes so quickly. Each day, each week, and then the weekend is upon me again. So much to do all the time and I am tired, but one thing is clear. I can only deal with this one day at a time. Only today, so I don’t get overwhelmed. Today I plan to eat only the organic food I prepared and brought with me today.
As far as my writing goals.
I did read for a while. Then I started thinking about that. Why I wasn’t writing. I decided to stick with my original outline for the book. I had made some changes, I liked the new changes but in my spur of the moment, made further changes, that I ended up not liking. (Changes on the chapters I should explain, but decided not to do that.) So I went about making a new revised manuscript. So there I was cutting and pasting chapters and stuff into the new revised manuscript.
Something inside of me grips my chest. *Anxiety* I want to write like some of the writers whose work I admire. I marvel at the words and structure of sentences that paint pictures in my head, and I become so envious of their ability. I want that. But while I was thinking about my writing, I came up with this one insight. I have the ability to write, just like the other writers that I love, and entertain and inspire readers across the world, however in order to do that I must practice.
So what do I do? I berate myself for making what I believe to be crucial changes to my manuscript so that I can maintain some kind of control of it and not get overwhelmed. Because I am cutting and pasting instead of writing. Because I want to write with every part of my being, and I am stuck cutting and pasting.
(Hah. Is that not stupid?) I am being hard on myself because I want to write. Strange. *Shaking my head*
Does it matter what I write? Just as long as I write something.
In some cases I believe it does, but maybe I am trying to get my feeling out. To understand them better, to get to the root of them and make sense of them.
I’m also disappointed in not knowing my characters as well as I would like to. I have been told that the characters at one point in the writing of a story take a life of their own. I have witnessed this myself. And yet I am cutting and pasting. I still feel I am procrastinating.
(This is me talking to myself now).
Okay, breathe. Slow down. Cut and paste, get the manuscript in the order of the outline. You will not be satisfied until you do so, so don’t fight that. Then start one page at a time. This is the hard work that writer want-a-bes never get past. The hard work of writing and concentrating on each aspect of a created book that is in the writers head and heart. The writer who is writing with true passion, this is the stuff of great writers. This is what makes or breaks a true writer.
One day at a time. Remember only today and what you can accomplish today. Even if it is small, done by increments, those increments will build until the momentum get stronger and then BAM! It’s done.
I can’t tell my readers how much it means to me to be able to get my feeling, fears, joys and triumphs out in this blog. In my sharing I hope to inspire other women to accomplish their goals. Share, enjoy, laugh, love, cry, and bond with me and other women. Until next time.
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