The call has been there, whispering, scratching, and occasionally shouting and thumping an aggravated fist against the inside of the wooden box where I've kept it locked for years. I fear it. I fight it. Even as I know it's my salvation, I don't know how to claim it, how to do it.
I spent 20 years learning how to struggle, how to feel like a victim, and then I spent the next 26 perfecting what I'd learned, doing things the hard way and naturally reinforcements of this thought process occurred daily. My wise self keeps telling me that this isn't how it has to be, this worry about money, this fear of stepping outside the pattern I've learned so well. I read books about how others have escaped the yoke of rat race living, trying to absorb their strength through the ink and paper before me. I've gone to see a couple of these inspiring beings, hoping that by breathing the same air they were breathing and hearing their inspiring words it would give me the final nudge I needed to open this box I keep locked and unleash the flood of magnificence I know, I know, resides within. After this stimulating encounter I was walking two feet off the ground, sure I could join the ranks of the enlightened who live their calling and not only survive but thrive and prosper because of it. By the time I sit down to unlock the box I somehow doubt all over again, and I'm mired in the fear once more, feeling like I'm trying to run in waist high water.
All this doubt and fear (that I'm not good enough, that I can't survive financially) leaves my dreams locked in the box, scratching to get out. Maybe all this doubt means this isn't "it" for me, that I'm misreading my calling. For why would I live in fear of that which would set me free – the embracing of my gift, and sharing it with the universe? But why would I be blessed with this gift, this knowing, if I'm not meant to use it? Why am I so afraid of it? I search, I yearn, for the answer. Meanwhile my calling continues to whisper to me in an admonishment of pop slogan: just do it, Sheila. Just create. And create and create and create. Create as if your Life depends on it, because, you know, it does.
At long last I must push all my fears down and just "do it". I must do it for myself as well as for my daughters. I must break this VICTIM cycle for all our sakes. I can make it on my own. I can set my creative juices free and create beauty.
Posted at 6:59 AM