Lust is incredibly easy and even more powerful.
We are excited by the draw of another person, the desire to connect with that person on the physical level. The connection provides us with pleasure or it doesn't, leaves our bodies satisfied or unsatisfied, and sometimes paints the illusion of something deeper.
Can love be produced from lust?
Lust can produce the feeling of something new and exciting, especially when change is needed in a person's life. But it can't produce love.
Love is incredibly difficult and even more powerful.
It is romanticized as a feeling of attraction toward someone, or material things, or even simply lust.
But is that all it is? Why is it that sex seems so easy to some of us with people we may not even know, yet loving someone we've known is so much more difficult?
Because love is scary, when it is real love. We fear the worst when it comes to letting people inside. We fear rejection, letdown, betrayal...
We don't have to fear these things when it comes to lust. But when our lust for a person (or even a thing such as power or money) is fulfilled, what is left?
Anyone has the ability to lust after another. But love is not for the faint of heart.
Use the word wisely.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Glimpses of privilege are everywhere
I've found myself in a bit of a difficult situation.
My best friend has been living with us for a few months because she doesn't have anywhere else to go. I agreed to let her stay here and even urged my mom and her partner to allow it, because I didn't want her to end up somewhere dangerous or not have a roof over her head.
It's now almost August, and, as one can probably imagine, sometimes I need a little space and alone time. As an introvert, the ability to have my own space has been extremely important to me. I usually have a rough time adjusting from being in school to being back at home, and the adjustment has been even harder lately because of the fact that I don't have my own space. I allow the fact that I don't have my own room to sometimes effect my mood and behavior, but I had to stop and think about it for a second when a voice popped in my head...
"And how many people in the world do you think have actually access to their own room?"
Then I thought of different people's stories I had heard about sharing one room with seven family members, and suddenly I had nothing to complain about.
Because I grew up middle class (although now things have changed and gotten a bit harder), I have a hard time seeing things any other way. I am entitled to my own room, to living comfortably, to being able to pay for things when I need them, etc. I rarely stop to think about other people's experiences in terms of these types of things, because I don't have to.
The same could be said for those who have white privilege, heterosexual privilege, male privilege, class privilege, ability privilege, and so on.
Talking about our privilege doesn't mean that we have to feel guilty about it. How can we feel guilty about something that we were born with? The problem arises when we are not aware of it or we deny it, because then it becomes impossible to change.
A lot of the times people who belong to one or more minority groups assume that they have no privilege. As an African-American, queer woman, I belong to three, but I still carry privilege every day. I have it when I can walk up the stairs instead of using the elevator, when I can be sure that I won't go hungry, and when I have the ability to have my own space.
Glimpses of it are everywhere, but can you see them?
Can I?
My best friend has been living with us for a few months because she doesn't have anywhere else to go. I agreed to let her stay here and even urged my mom and her partner to allow it, because I didn't want her to end up somewhere dangerous or not have a roof over her head.
It's now almost August, and, as one can probably imagine, sometimes I need a little space and alone time. As an introvert, the ability to have my own space has been extremely important to me. I usually have a rough time adjusting from being in school to being back at home, and the adjustment has been even harder lately because of the fact that I don't have my own space. I allow the fact that I don't have my own room to sometimes effect my mood and behavior, but I had to stop and think about it for a second when a voice popped in my head...
"And how many people in the world do you think have actually access to their own room?"
Then I thought of different people's stories I had heard about sharing one room with seven family members, and suddenly I had nothing to complain about.
Because I grew up middle class (although now things have changed and gotten a bit harder), I have a hard time seeing things any other way. I am entitled to my own room, to living comfortably, to being able to pay for things when I need them, etc. I rarely stop to think about other people's experiences in terms of these types of things, because I don't have to.
The same could be said for those who have white privilege, heterosexual privilege, male privilege, class privilege, ability privilege, and so on.
Talking about our privilege doesn't mean that we have to feel guilty about it. How can we feel guilty about something that we were born with? The problem arises when we are not aware of it or we deny it, because then it becomes impossible to change.
A lot of the times people who belong to one or more minority groups assume that they have no privilege. As an African-American, queer woman, I belong to three, but I still carry privilege every day. I have it when I can walk up the stairs instead of using the elevator, when I can be sure that I won't go hungry, and when I have the ability to have my own space.
Glimpses of it are everywhere, but can you see them?
Can I?
Joy can only truly arise from presence
I, like most other humans, have wasted an incredible amount of time either lingering on things that have happened in the past, or imagining future scenarios.
I have spent countless hours of my life letting my past run my life, or holding onto how someone has treated me badly, or having constant regrets and wishing I could have done things differently.
Being preoccupied with the future is almost just as bad. We all have counted down or looked forward to a particular day or point in time, treating the present moment like it's some obstacle that has to be overcome. Then, when we finally arrive at that particular point in time, we are underwhelmed.
The past and future can both be used in ways that would benefit us. But when we linger and obsess over things that do not technically exist (except for as a memory in the brain or an imagined circumstance for what is to come), we are not living.
This is a lesson that I'm still working to learn. It's easy to have regrets in broken relationships in friendships and with mistakes we have made in the past. But what difference would it make to the present moment if I had made a different decision? There is a difference between realizing how the past shapes the decisions we should make in the present and obsessive over mistakes that have been made. There is a difference between making positive decisions in the present moment that will shape our future (karma) and living only for what the future holds.
If we're not present in the work we do, with the relationships we have, within ourselves, we aren't happy. How can we be? When thinking of the past, we are living in something that no longer exists. When thinking in the future, we avoid the present moment by wishing we were somewhere else. Both past and future only exist in the mind, where the present always exists.
The "now" is all there is. Let's live here.
I have spent countless hours of my life letting my past run my life, or holding onto how someone has treated me badly, or having constant regrets and wishing I could have done things differently.
Being preoccupied with the future is almost just as bad. We all have counted down or looked forward to a particular day or point in time, treating the present moment like it's some obstacle that has to be overcome. Then, when we finally arrive at that particular point in time, we are underwhelmed.
The past and future can both be used in ways that would benefit us. But when we linger and obsess over things that do not technically exist (except for as a memory in the brain or an imagined circumstance for what is to come), we are not living.
This is a lesson that I'm still working to learn. It's easy to have regrets in broken relationships in friendships and with mistakes we have made in the past. But what difference would it make to the present moment if I had made a different decision? There is a difference between realizing how the past shapes the decisions we should make in the present and obsessive over mistakes that have been made. There is a difference between making positive decisions in the present moment that will shape our future (karma) and living only for what the future holds.
If we're not present in the work we do, with the relationships we have, within ourselves, we aren't happy. How can we be? When thinking of the past, we are living in something that no longer exists. When thinking in the future, we avoid the present moment by wishing we were somewhere else. Both past and future only exist in the mind, where the present always exists.
The "now" is all there is. Let's live here.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
When you just know
I would estimate that I make decisions with my gut about 90% of the time. My gut is correct in almost every single circumstance, negative or positive. I just know things without having to use my senses.
And when it comes to things like what career I want to go into, or whether or not I'll have a family, or which graduate program to select... I still trust my heart above all else.
I got an anonymous comment the other night complaining about how much I talk about my summer job. "Don't you think about anything else?"
The answer to that is: rarely.
The positions I've held over the summer are more than just "jobs" to me. They represent the solidification of my goals and aspirations for life, not just for the time being. Without these opportunities I still would be unsure of which direction my life was taking. This "job" has introduced me to an incredible group of leaders, opened my eyes to explore different career options, and has strengthened my own leadership abilities.
So is it worth me updating people on how much I love it and how important it is to me? I'd say yes.
I just know.
It's an exciting and scary time because for the longest time I've had no idea what I've wanted to do, and the answer has come to me over the course of the past few weeks. I almost started crying last night because I'm so overwhelmed by gratitude by the wealth of knowledge I've been able to attain over the past month and a half. It represents more than just a paycheck. It's actually tangible and fulfilling work to see that I have the potential to inspire students to be the best they can be.
And I just know. Student affairs is it.
And when it comes to things like what career I want to go into, or whether or not I'll have a family, or which graduate program to select... I still trust my heart above all else.
I got an anonymous comment the other night complaining about how much I talk about my summer job. "Don't you think about anything else?"
The answer to that is: rarely.
The positions I've held over the summer are more than just "jobs" to me. They represent the solidification of my goals and aspirations for life, not just for the time being. Without these opportunities I still would be unsure of which direction my life was taking. This "job" has introduced me to an incredible group of leaders, opened my eyes to explore different career options, and has strengthened my own leadership abilities.
So is it worth me updating people on how much I love it and how important it is to me? I'd say yes.
I just know.
It's an exciting and scary time because for the longest time I've had no idea what I've wanted to do, and the answer has come to me over the course of the past few weeks. I almost started crying last night because I'm so overwhelmed by gratitude by the wealth of knowledge I've been able to attain over the past month and a half. It represents more than just a paycheck. It's actually tangible and fulfilling work to see that I have the potential to inspire students to be the best they can be.
And I just know. Student affairs is it.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
The diversity of perception
Diversity is usually understood to be differences between race/ethnicity and cultures.
The word can encompass a lot, and I think sometimes we forget how diverse all of us really are, even when we are in the same racial category, have the same sexual orientation, socioeconomic statuses, etc. Because no matter how alike we all may seem, the way we perceive and understand things is never the same as someone else.
This is all pretty obvious, and the reason I'm writing this is because I recently had an experience that brought all of this back to the surface.
A few nights ago, while training with 15 other peer leaders at a beach house in Bodega, cultures clashed in what can be described as a prank gone too far.
It was a little past midnight, and me and the other women in my room had just turned out the light and the TV. Then, out of nowhere, a figure holding a candle and gliding by the window appeared. I didn't get a good look at them, but everyone panicked immediately, and my roommate whispered something about a white hood.
That's when I went into absolute panic.
I didn't have time to think that it was a joke, because the first place I went is that the KKK were outside. It was one of the scariest moments of my life. Now while this reaction might seem ridiculous or out of line to some. I had one of my peers make a mocking joke about how I had responded. But let me ask a few questions. Have you thought about the fact that in my history and the stories I've heard growing up, the KKK were famous for lynching members of my community? Do you know that my grandfather was a civil rights leader and had shots fired into his house when my mom was growing up? Did you even think about how scary it is to be in an unfamiliar place in the middle of nowhere and have someone stare into your room with a candle and a while cloak?
The possibility that those things weren't thought about highlights an ignorance and a glaring privilege.
My roommate Rebecca was in an entirely different place than I was.
She thought the figure outside was an alien, because the stories she grew up with were full of aliens and the supernatural. Her perception of the event was entirely different than mine, but that doesn't make it any less "feasible" or "legitimate." She has just as much of a right to think that it was an alien than I had thinking it was the KKK, because both of those experiences are linked to our past and our background.
Meanwhile, the women on my staff who decided to play the prank had no idea what the impact would be on the rest of us. It was a spur of the moment thing they did to cause laughs, but it caused the exact opposite of what they had intended. I was in tears, the men were in a panic and rushing outside to respond to the situation (very gendered, in my opinion), and some of us were just frozen. My peers felt genuinely guilty and upset by the impacts of their actions. They explained to us that in their Mexican background it was common to play pranks on people and scare each other out of good fun, and that they never even thought about how other people from other backgrounds would experience it. Our entire staff got together the next morning and debriefed about it. Some tears were shed, experiences and perspectives were shared, and I felt closer to everyone than I had the night before.
I know the various thoughts people could have depending on their experience:
"Wow, I never thought of it that way."
"That was horrifying."
"People are overreacting. This whole thing is ridiculous."
"I feel terrible."
"I don't see what the big deal is."
I find the fact that we all see, experience, and perceive things differently to be a beautiful thing. Each of us bring something different to the staff or any group of people we are around. It is when we begin to question or negate each other's experiences that conflict arises.
The word can encompass a lot, and I think sometimes we forget how diverse all of us really are, even when we are in the same racial category, have the same sexual orientation, socioeconomic statuses, etc. Because no matter how alike we all may seem, the way we perceive and understand things is never the same as someone else.
This is all pretty obvious, and the reason I'm writing this is because I recently had an experience that brought all of this back to the surface.
A few nights ago, while training with 15 other peer leaders at a beach house in Bodega, cultures clashed in what can be described as a prank gone too far.
It was a little past midnight, and me and the other women in my room had just turned out the light and the TV. Then, out of nowhere, a figure holding a candle and gliding by the window appeared. I didn't get a good look at them, but everyone panicked immediately, and my roommate whispered something about a white hood.
That's when I went into absolute panic.
I didn't have time to think that it was a joke, because the first place I went is that the KKK were outside. It was one of the scariest moments of my life. Now while this reaction might seem ridiculous or out of line to some. I had one of my peers make a mocking joke about how I had responded. But let me ask a few questions. Have you thought about the fact that in my history and the stories I've heard growing up, the KKK were famous for lynching members of my community? Do you know that my grandfather was a civil rights leader and had shots fired into his house when my mom was growing up? Did you even think about how scary it is to be in an unfamiliar place in the middle of nowhere and have someone stare into your room with a candle and a while cloak?
The possibility that those things weren't thought about highlights an ignorance and a glaring privilege.
My roommate Rebecca was in an entirely different place than I was.
She thought the figure outside was an alien, because the stories she grew up with were full of aliens and the supernatural. Her perception of the event was entirely different than mine, but that doesn't make it any less "feasible" or "legitimate." She has just as much of a right to think that it was an alien than I had thinking it was the KKK, because both of those experiences are linked to our past and our background.
Meanwhile, the women on my staff who decided to play the prank had no idea what the impact would be on the rest of us. It was a spur of the moment thing they did to cause laughs, but it caused the exact opposite of what they had intended. I was in tears, the men were in a panic and rushing outside to respond to the situation (very gendered, in my opinion), and some of us were just frozen. My peers felt genuinely guilty and upset by the impacts of their actions. They explained to us that in their Mexican background it was common to play pranks on people and scare each other out of good fun, and that they never even thought about how other people from other backgrounds would experience it. Our entire staff got together the next morning and debriefed about it. Some tears were shed, experiences and perspectives were shared, and I felt closer to everyone than I had the night before.
I know the various thoughts people could have depending on their experience:
"Wow, I never thought of it that way."
"That was horrifying."
"People are overreacting. This whole thing is ridiculous."
"I feel terrible."
"I don't see what the big deal is."
I find the fact that we all see, experience, and perceive things differently to be a beautiful thing. Each of us bring something different to the staff or any group of people we are around. It is when we begin to question or negate each other's experiences that conflict arises.
Closure with myself
The last time I cried about it was the day of graduation.
I'm pretty sure that was everything combined - from knowing that I probably wasn't going to see her for at least years if not ever again, from knowing that she had almost blindly found someone to take my place, the fact that she acted completely oblivious to the fact that everything she was doing was breaking me down more every time, from knowing that she had just thrown me out of her life completely... I couldn't help being bitter and angry. It was supposed to be me, it should have been me, how could it not be me?
This was no ordinary cry. It was what I had been holding back for almost a month. The anger over having to deal with seeing her flaunt the person she left me for all around campus, introducing her to people she never took the time to introduce me to, blah blah blah.
And after that meltdown I finally realized something: The reason I'm so upset over what she's done and how she's hurt me and boo hoo is that the two of us never had closure. But why? Why is it so hard to come to an understanding about how each of us have hurt each other, and about what we expect from each other in the future?
Because I'm dealing with a narcissist.
I've realized over the past month that I can't sit here and wait for closure, because closure would involve several things a narcissist is incapable of: First, an ability to empathize with how the other person is feeling. Second, an ability to realize one's own mistakes. Third, the ability to give up a certain level of selfishness.
If my ex was capable of any of those things, the two of us would have had closure months ago. Does a person have control over their narcissism? I don't know, but I accept her for how she is. But I also have to accept the fact that we will probably never be able to talk about closure because she can't empathize with me. (But she'll be able to once someone does the same things to her that she did to me.)
So, what can I do?
I'm no longer in pain from the situation, but sometimes it pops back up in my mind and I find myself wondering if I'll ever be friends or what have you with her ever again. Is it possible?
I don't know. But I do know that I have found closure with myself and defined what it means. It's a sad fact, but I have finally accepted that I will never get what I need from her. She won't be be willing to give me what I need of her, because she is too self-centered as of now. If she wasn't she couldn't have ever done the things she did. But who knows if that will always be the case?
When it isn't any longer, I'll be ready.
I'm pretty sure that was everything combined - from knowing that I probably wasn't going to see her for at least years if not ever again, from knowing that she had almost blindly found someone to take my place, the fact that she acted completely oblivious to the fact that everything she was doing was breaking me down more every time, from knowing that she had just thrown me out of her life completely... I couldn't help being bitter and angry. It was supposed to be me, it should have been me, how could it not be me?
This was no ordinary cry. It was what I had been holding back for almost a month. The anger over having to deal with seeing her flaunt the person she left me for all around campus, introducing her to people she never took the time to introduce me to, blah blah blah.
And after that meltdown I finally realized something: The reason I'm so upset over what she's done and how she's hurt me and boo hoo is that the two of us never had closure. But why? Why is it so hard to come to an understanding about how each of us have hurt each other, and about what we expect from each other in the future?
Because I'm dealing with a narcissist.
I've realized over the past month that I can't sit here and wait for closure, because closure would involve several things a narcissist is incapable of: First, an ability to empathize with how the other person is feeling. Second, an ability to realize one's own mistakes. Third, the ability to give up a certain level of selfishness.
If my ex was capable of any of those things, the two of us would have had closure months ago. Does a person have control over their narcissism? I don't know, but I accept her for how she is. But I also have to accept the fact that we will probably never be able to talk about closure because she can't empathize with me. (But she'll be able to once someone does the same things to her that she did to me.)
So, what can I do?
I'm no longer in pain from the situation, but sometimes it pops back up in my mind and I find myself wondering if I'll ever be friends or what have you with her ever again. Is it possible?
I don't know. But I do know that I have found closure with myself and defined what it means. It's a sad fact, but I have finally accepted that I will never get what I need from her. She won't be be willing to give me what I need of her, because she is too self-centered as of now. If she wasn't she couldn't have ever done the things she did. But who knows if that will always be the case?
When it isn't any longer, I'll be ready.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Caution before a jump, or complete cynicism?
Love. The romantic kind, of course.
I would have to say that I am in a strange place about this word. "Loving" a person has completely changed me, not only because with that person I was shown exactly what love is not, but because of the things I learned within myself knowing that my own was and is genuine.
If I had never loved, what would I have learned?
Through being shown a false display of affection labeled "love," I have been able to more clearly define what love is for myself. But I also understand that very few people in this generation (to my knowledge) even understand what they are saying or expressing. And that is my cynicism.
For instance, a person can go from one lover to the next in fairly short periods of time, claiming that they "love" each person. You mean just as you "loved" all of the other lovers you abused and hurt more than you could possibly comprehend? That is a twisted and selfish way of love.
And the selfishness seems to be a common trend in what we view as "love." We convince ourselves that the person we "love" is the one who is going to "make us happy" and "make us feel good." We couldn't imagine our lives without them, we have a constant need to see them and speak to them, and so on and so forth.
These things aren't bad initially, until they become addictions. We become addicted to the other person. It's a mistake I've made several times.
But love isn't selfish, it's selfless.
I've spent a lot of time over the past few months being sure of what love isn't, not because I think about it on a regular basis but because people in my life have shown me for themselves. I witness it around me all the time. Materialism is not love, marriage is not always love, and neither is simply telling a person that you love them and then treating them as if they never mattered to you in the first place. It isn't sex, because any two people can have sex.
We need to define love for ourselves before we are ready to say it to another person. We need to define it to the person we're telling it to. For me, love is sacrifice and unconditional. It is accepting a person entirely for who they are no matter what mood they're in, what they've done or how they may have abused me. It is seeing myself in another. It is forgiving the most difficult things to possibly forgive. It is supporting someone in anything they want to do. It does not end, even if its form may change.
But it is meaningless to define "love" for ourselves and then not act it out in everything and everyone we do love, romantically or not.
I'm sorry my definition was so vastly different from yours.
But it ain't no big thing.
I would have to say that I am in a strange place about this word. "Loving" a person has completely changed me, not only because with that person I was shown exactly what love is not, but because of the things I learned within myself knowing that my own was and is genuine.
If I had never loved, what would I have learned?
Through being shown a false display of affection labeled "love," I have been able to more clearly define what love is for myself. But I also understand that very few people in this generation (to my knowledge) even understand what they are saying or expressing. And that is my cynicism.
For instance, a person can go from one lover to the next in fairly short periods of time, claiming that they "love" each person. You mean just as you "loved" all of the other lovers you abused and hurt more than you could possibly comprehend? That is a twisted and selfish way of love.
And the selfishness seems to be a common trend in what we view as "love." We convince ourselves that the person we "love" is the one who is going to "make us happy" and "make us feel good." We couldn't imagine our lives without them, we have a constant need to see them and speak to them, and so on and so forth.
These things aren't bad initially, until they become addictions. We become addicted to the other person. It's a mistake I've made several times.
But love isn't selfish, it's selfless.
I've spent a lot of time over the past few months being sure of what love isn't, not because I think about it on a regular basis but because people in my life have shown me for themselves. I witness it around me all the time. Materialism is not love, marriage is not always love, and neither is simply telling a person that you love them and then treating them as if they never mattered to you in the first place. It isn't sex, because any two people can have sex.
We need to define love for ourselves before we are ready to say it to another person. We need to define it to the person we're telling it to. For me, love is sacrifice and unconditional. It is accepting a person entirely for who they are no matter what mood they're in, what they've done or how they may have abused me. It is seeing myself in another. It is forgiving the most difficult things to possibly forgive. It is supporting someone in anything they want to do. It does not end, even if its form may change.
But it is meaningless to define "love" for ourselves and then not act it out in everything and everyone we do love, romantically or not.
I'm sorry my definition was so vastly different from yours.
But it ain't no big thing.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Lacking a creative title
I've been working Summer Orientation up here at Sonoma State for almost a month now, and in that time I've realized some really important and exciting things. I've been totally immersed in work that I love, have formed new friendships and bonds with the people I work with, and have continued to heal and grow and learn.
So, it's no real surprise that, as it's coming to an end, I've been feeling a little blue. By the end of this one-month work period I will have worked with over 50 students. But what has made the job most enjoyable for me is our staff. I am inspired and energized every day by each of the enthusiasm, love, and compassion each and every one of us has brought to the table. We came together for a common goal, bonded and grew closer to one another, and "built our community."
Each of my groups have brought something different, and each conversation I've had with a student has shown me that helping them is something that I not only was hired to do, but could see myself doing for years in the future. Before this summer I had a lot of difficulty seeing the things that I did well while working with students. I was much better at focusing on what I needed to do better, what went wrong, and never with what I had actually done well.
It's clear to me now that I can very positively affect the lives of students, especially given the opportunity to work with them for extended amounts of time. Even in the short amount of time (two days) I am given to interact and connect with my students I have answered a myriad number of questions, had students open up to me about things they felt they couldn't talk about with other people, and consoled students who were feeling all the various pressures of coming to college for the first time. If I can connect with students on that level only after a day or two days, the ways in which I could positively effect their experience in college when I'm bringing my best self are many.
So, it's no real surprise that, as it's coming to an end, I've been feeling a little blue. By the end of this one-month work period I will have worked with over 50 students. But what has made the job most enjoyable for me is our staff. I am inspired and energized every day by each of the enthusiasm, love, and compassion each and every one of us has brought to the table. We came together for a common goal, bonded and grew closer to one another, and "built our community."
Each of my groups have brought something different, and each conversation I've had with a student has shown me that helping them is something that I not only was hired to do, but could see myself doing for years in the future. Before this summer I had a lot of difficulty seeing the things that I did well while working with students. I was much better at focusing on what I needed to do better, what went wrong, and never with what I had actually done well.
It's clear to me now that I can very positively affect the lives of students, especially given the opportunity to work with them for extended amounts of time. Even in the short amount of time (two days) I am given to interact and connect with my students I have answered a myriad number of questions, had students open up to me about things they felt they couldn't talk about with other people, and consoled students who were feeling all the various pressures of coming to college for the first time. If I can connect with students on that level only after a day or two days, the ways in which I could positively effect their experience in college when I'm bringing my best self are many.
Monday, July 5, 2010
I have given myself an assignment.
I've given myself a thousand excuses over the years for not writing as much as I'd like to or should. It's true I've been busy with school and the multiple things I've gotten involved in. Too busy to spend thirty minutes a day writing or playing my guitar? Probably not.
Even now I don't know what to write about, but at least I'm in the process of creating something right here and now. My assignment to myself is to keep a journal, both online and on paper. It sounds pretty simple to some, and it should be for me. But I lost my drive to write somewhere along the way, and that scares me, especially because I have a talent for it. What confuses me the most about my inability to write is that over the past few months I've grown in ways that take years for most people. One would think I would have a lot to say!
It's July 5. I'm shooting for a blog every other day, maybe every day if I have time. I don't know what they'll be about, but it doesn't really matter. This is my space for introspection and reflection.
Even now I don't know what to write about, but at least I'm in the process of creating something right here and now. My assignment to myself is to keep a journal, both online and on paper. It sounds pretty simple to some, and it should be for me. But I lost my drive to write somewhere along the way, and that scares me, especially because I have a talent for it. What confuses me the most about my inability to write is that over the past few months I've grown in ways that take years for most people. One would think I would have a lot to say!
It's July 5. I'm shooting for a blog every other day, maybe every day if I have time. I don't know what they'll be about, but it doesn't really matter. This is my space for introspection and reflection.
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