Sometimes I think that my life is very boring. I don’t feel like I’m making any difference in anyone else’s life. I am blessed, don’t get me wrong. I love my family. But I still feel like there is something missing in my life. I am so disorganized. That is a negative when one wants to become a published writer. My writing-table is in shambles. I have a pile of magazines here, and a stack of finished poems there, and I can’t even see an empty space on the surface.
Perhaps it is because I’m afraid that if I clear off the table, then I have to get down to my writing. What am I afraid of anyway? Is it fear of success or of failure? Or could it be a little bit of both. Can it be that I’m too lazy? Or that I just don’t care one way or another? I’m not sure. I don’t even want to know, to be honest. Perhaps I’m just too content with writing here on my blog. It is safe. I don’t have to worry about rejection. Or whether a paycheck is coming in.
Either way, I need to start and stop letting this foolishness hold me back. I’ve said it before, I know. Sometimes I feel that my life is in limbo, as though I am waiting to see what is going to happen. What direction does God want me heading into? I’ve always felt this talent was a gift from Him. Why do I keep holding it back? Why can’t I just release my inner writer and let her be whoever she wants, or needs, to be?
Busyness of day-to-day living can be so hard to endure at times. Hold me accountable. Don’t let me get by another week without submitting something to an editor. I need to take that chance, no matter what the outcome.