I started this blog to write the stuff running through my head. Likely not of interest to everyone, more of a public journal to the process my brain conversations. I write it to remind myself what my core ideas are, what I want from life, what I'm working on and why its hard to reach for what i truly am passionate about.
Today, a conversation I had with O. is going through my head. He said something to the effect that getting a knitting pattern up for sale was my dream. Without thought, my answer snapped back "That's not my dream, my dream is to write." Specifically, to write and get published something that makes a difference.
Maybe that's the problem. Pursuing the pleasant, the ok, the fun but superficial is easy as falling off a frog.
The stuff I'm pssionate about, the writing, is sort of freaking me out somewhere, I guess.
I have lots of physical and mental impediments to writing to creating worlds and people, and situations. even to writing non-fiction that may help someone.
Are they real impediments?
Yep. (not being able to write well while reclining, not being able to sit up long enough, not being able to sit with my feet down long enough, brain fog from fibro, from pain, from pain meds, forgetting what I'm writign int eh middle of a sentence is extremley frustrating, and can trigger depression, my dyslexia... I could keep listing impediments, but that probably won't lead to a solution.
Are those impediments the reason it's not happening?
I'm not so sure.
Other possibilities are:
Fear of Success
Feeling unworthy of my dream
Fear of increasing my level of daily frustration.
Fear of totally giving up. *ding ding ding*
I think we have a weiner.
It's bits of all of it, but the final one is what really twanged my strings.
I fear failing often enough that I give up.
Trying in the past has always ended up with not being able to put the ideas together, to having pain or pain meds inturrupt my thoughts, to ultimately setting the grand plan aside.
I have tried many ways of structuring the actual physical writing, none have worked well.
So I'm taking a mental vacation. When circumstances change, I will dust off those story and book idea files and start again.
I have another passion for creating collage art.
That one hass a pretty big physical impediment right now, with the house not set up for my power chair.
I don't feel the same block with the collage stuff as I do the writing stuff. It seems less frustrating not to be able to do it.
Less emotional investment, I guess that's key.
This entry will end the way the books I hate do, without a solid conclusion.