Something passed across my consciousness on Facebook the other day about how to bring more positive energy into your life. I feel like I've had far more negativity in my internal mental space than positive so I thought "Why not give it a try?" It consists of doing five things every day.
1. Perform one random act of kindness everyday.
2. Be grateful for at least three things.
3. Meditate for at least three minutes.
4. Exercise for at least 15 minutes.
5. Journal about one positive experience from the previous 24 hours.
Today, I decided to begin this journey. I posted on Facebook about three things for which I'm grateful. They are a wonderful wife who made my favourite dinner, two lovely kitty souls who adore us, a family that I love but don't get to see as much as I'd like. Shannon and I went for a walk in Waiatarua Reserve for over an hour. I tried to bag a couple of geocaches but I just couldn't find them. I found a cool app for my phone called Calm that gives you a guided meditation every day. I did that for three minutes. I'm going to journal about something positive as soon as I get done with this. That just leaves a random act of kindness. I'm kinda stumped on that one. I'll have to think about what I can do in the next two hours before the day is over.
For as long as I can remember I've wanted to be a writer. I wanted to have my stories published and read by everyone in the world. I wanted to be rich and famous or at the very least well off and well known. I'm 45 years old now and I haven't done anything with the writing gift I was given. I've got half finished stories and nebulous ideas but little else to show for the ambition I carried around for so long. Ambition without drive is a heart breaking thing. Every day I have ideas. My brain is always going. My imagination is always in overdrive but when it comes to actually writing it, I can't muster the energy or the desire to put a single letter on the page.
The other day, Shannon was telling me yet again that I needed to blog about one thing or another and I told her I just couldn't be bothered. She said, "That's why you'll never be a writer." Ever since, those words have been haunting me, mocking me. "That's why you'll never be a writer."
I've been holding on to this desire since I was in single digits. A writer is the one thing I always wanted to be even as the other ambitions came and went. Is it time to give it up? Is it time to admit that I don't have the drive, the self-motivation, to make it as a writer? The thought leaves me with a feeling of complete and utter loss and at the same time relief. I've been beating myself up for so long because I feel like such a failure. I mean, how difficult is it to turn off the TV and spend a few minutes writing stuff down?
Most of the time I find it difficult to write unless I'm in the right frame of mind. The problem is I can't get in the right frame of mind for anything. I don't want to work. I don't want to write. I don't want to do anything but stare at the TV and zone out. I feel like a spectator in my own life and I just don't know what to do to get myself into a more active role. I feel useless most of the time. I can't summon up much enthusiasm about anything.
I'm not yet ready to give up on my dream. I have hope that one day I'll feel like living again. Maybe I'll never be a writer but then again maybe I will. I'm not ready for it to be over yet though.