Prologue: I post this to oil the dry pen… nothing more than to put something concrete to paper to jump-start the stalled engine. This piece entitled “I am struggling…” was sitting on my desk top, with the pictures, yet unfinished and abandoned, written in the time after seeking counsel for my ill feelings. I realize, for the most part, my depression was (and is) because I was not being true to my own creative spirit. I need to do my will yet am bound to the promises I make in other areas of my life. The line about dreaming of other places and times holds truth and it is the ungrounded reality speaking. The choice of running away, freeing my soul, just being me… well, that’s a dream harnessed by responsibility and commitment. The time between then and now has elapsed and more promises were made, however, today… I feel as if I wrote this right in the now and the pull of the spiral twists me in and out of good and not so good.
Dear readers: don’t fret for me – all will be well.
Beyond the clouds the sun shines. In the temporary greyness there exists the proverbial silver lining…
Yet, I struggle, off and on, with few and many things, and I am unsure which of the perpetrators impedes my writing but something prevents me from putting my words to paper. There are no shortage of thoughts and ideas as they come swirling to me in teasing fashion. It’s like knowing what’s good for you yet making a bad decision – loving the bad boy instead of looking to the boy next door. There is comfort in the familiar and sanity in the sameness.
There are no lack of dreams as they harbor their details within my heart and soul, anchored safely until such time I cast them forth from my deep shores. There is desire but not motive. I avoid my journal and have for some time despite my promise – guessing I just need time and things will resume. Not as they once were, but in some other way which I presume will be in due course. My work in progress calls to me and my muse has taken up dancing to amuse herself until I listen to her beckoning call – it reassures me to know these things await me for they are the very core of me and I would not live long without them… I go on and there is so much going on that one would wonder when writing might be practiced upon. I sleep and dream of other worlds where time and money are not necessary and I could take my days upon the balcony in sunshine with coffee cup and pen in hand. I meet with my past to partake in earnest discussion, attempting to deal with things that have not lasted wondering where the time has gone and what the future might hold in store. I ponder life and the hand it deals to each of us and how we play the cards expecting certain outcomes yet taking chances with our luck. We push it, count it, destroy it, and call for more when prompted. There is so much push and pull – yin and yang – coming and going… I love my job yet hate decisions I cannot change. I love my company yet want to be there more and can’t. I want to move on but I am weighted to this spot. I want to write but other commitments come to be number one even though recent heartfelt council revealed commitments to me are what I lack and they are to be number one if I am to heal. I desire better health but don’t or can’t make the changes; I am alone and enjoy my oneness yet I am lonely; I am pleased with what I have and who I have become in most ways yet I am not happy. Rather, I don’t feel happiness – sometimes there is nothingness and it is so hard to explain, yet alone reason its existence. There is so much to do and so far to go. I need to work on allowing myself to be happy without guilt or excuse. I need to define what my happiness looks like and make the changes necessary to get there. There is little time to waste on ill will and an unhappy heart.