My whole house seems so much brighter than it did a couple of hours ago. This week my normal manic Monday has been replaced by a gentle and well deserved break. I woke up with a book besides me and went out onto the porch to read and drink my morning tea. It was the perfect dreary day.
Now my house is a bit cleaner and I am contemplating a nap. Life has been really hectic this year and there are some big changes coming in my life. Changes I am making willing and some unwilling. I have come to the conclusion that I need more days like this where I am free to write and not being pulled in three or four different directions. I am still working three jobs and writing whenever where ever I can. Blood Child is still selling and reviews are slowly but surely coming in. (If you have had a chance to read it then please consider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads. Every review is helpful. )
The thing that I can do to help myself the most is not working until my brain is numb. This past week I worked seven days in a row and barely had the brain power to string together a complete sentence let a lone a paragraph. I can’t continue this pace. It simply isn’t health. My mind and body know it.
I have also come to the conclusion that all this work really hasn’t done me any good. I am only marginally better off than I was a year ago. Financial things are a little better and for that I am grateful. It is time though to think about what I really want. Eight years ago, I thought that I wanted to be a teacher for the rest of my life. I was excited about all the opportunities in front of me. That dreams was one that sustained me for so many years of self-imposed stupidity. I was going to do something with my life. I was going to give back and teach.
I had put an order dream aside. A dream I thought that I was unworthy of.
Being a writer.
Now, I know that I can do it. I just have to be willing to do it. Willing to crave out more days like these for myself. Willing to give up some income so that I can write and really work on the craft of writing. I saw this image on Alethea Kontis’ Facebook page and realized that I have known what it takes for years, but have been afraid. Afraid to give up what I have for what I want. I may never be a full time writer. Still I am happiest when I am writing or teaching. It is time to do more of what I love instead of acting out of fear.
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