So… I’m sitting under a tree, feeling the breeze on my face and in my hair (what there is of it) and watching the kids who are my daughter’s classmates in some form or another pass me by. I’m listening to Son of a Sailor. I can almost feel rain on the breeze. Almost… not quite…
I’m feeling very down today. I’m watching the kids pass me by and thinking about life passing me by and feeling like I really really need to do something about that. It has been very much a contemplative kind of day today. I’ve been thinking a lot about what kind of a role model I am… what kind of fraud I feel like. And I feel, tonight, like a total fraud.
I’ve been putting off writing for entirely too long. I’m tired of being told how impractical it is. I’m tired of thinking that everything has to always have something to do with the almighty dollar. Making money is always good (especially when you still have a house payment and you have mouths to feed and medical bills to always pay) but sometimes it really isn’t all about that. Sometimes it really is about fulfilling your destiny. Doing what calls to your heart while there is still time to do what you dream of doing.
I may never become rich or famous for the words I write. I’ve almost come to terms with the realization that the sum total of my audience is probably always going to be in the double digits with a rare venture into maybe a hudred or so…
I have almost been able to push the insistant comments that, if I really really cared about other people I wouldn’t do anything that means I spend any time alone with my thoughts and my words… that it isn’t fair to OTHER people for me to do anything that isn’t ALWAYS for other people. Almost, not quite. I still end up dealing with the whine and it is sometimes as hard to push away as a mosquito in a tent. But I’m working on it.
I regret that I didn’t have the cahonies to listen to my freshman English teacher. I probably wouldn’t have been able to provided, materially, for my family, the way I have been able to because I did what I was told to do… because it was practical… but I do wonder if I would have been able to look myself in the mirror better and look at my babies without guilt and tell them that they need to follow their dreams, regardless of what their dreams are, because it matters.
But maybe… just maybe it isn’t too late. Maybe an hour and a half twice a week will help me to find the time and the clarity to really do this….
knock on wood… there is nowhere to go from here but up!!!