This all began out of fear. I didn’t realize fear was the issue at the time, and I’d many times attributed my discontent to other things, but it was fear that led me here. You’ve oftentimes heard musicians and composers say that they chose a life of music because they couldn’t not write music. That same sentiment is what finally stung my core and caused me to start this page. I can’t not write anymore. However terrifying exposing my inner thoughts to the world may be, expressing them in written form is who I am. So here we are.
I was working my way through Julia Cameron’s “The Artist’s Way” when I stumbled upon this clarity. I started writing my morning page with no intention of it holding any meaning at all. To me it was nothing more meaningful than the writing in an adolescent’s diary … until it was transformed. Somewhere along the way, my writing became inspired, and its words held within them the answer to my most pressing question:
Am I supposed to create? Was it my Creator’s intention for me to write?
Here’s what poured out of me and into that journal on this day:
“For the love of God, I can’t get a minute’s rest. Someone has always left the water running, needs to be fed, or is mid-fight. It’s a miracle I’m still sane. What was God thinking giving me three sons? I must have been some kind of brat to require this much humbling. Or is this supposed to be my artistic material?
My hand hurts. How did I used to do hours upon hours of cursive writing in school? I often think about what I would do differently if I could go back. Would I read more and socialize less? Would I choose a different university? Travel? Move? Would I now be a writer living in Brooklyn … or, perhaps, a book editor?
It’s funny how when I think what I want out of this life, it never involves wanting money. However, I find myself often consumed by wanting more and feeling like I need more. Maybe my choice to not live a creative life has made me feel like I need the bigger house or nicer things as the consolation prize for the sacrifice of my true self. This is, of course, ridiculous but also shows me that I’m searching for a richness of life, a creative life. If I had the bigger house and nicer things, I would still be searching.
It’s creativity, expression, and depth that I crave. It’s the desire to feel awake and alive! I want to live creatively, nurture meaningful friendships, develop an intimate relationship with God’s creation, and experience a deeper faith. I want to be fully engaged in this life from the tips of my toes to the top of my crown.
I first have to disengage from this manufactured world and disconnect the disingenuous channels of my mind telling me what will make me happy. Should I continue down their chosen path for me, I will do nothing but tire my soul and squander my days. But should I diverge, I will once again recognize my reflection and walk along a path shrouded in glorious mystery that connects me to my Creator.
What could keep me from taking this path? Fear? Staying the course is far more frightening. Comfort? Even in the most familiar, the hollow core remains. I’ve filled it with food. I’ve chased money. I’ve tried to ignore its festering. But in the end, it is left unchanged, still waiting patiently to be filled by a leap of faith.”