My first day in a committed relationship with a writing schedule went well. Sure, I got a little overwhelmed with character development. Oh, and I got a headache from thinking too much, but as a whole, I would like to believe that I am on the right path. When I stopped and decided it was time to delve into some more research (code for binge reading), I found myself gasping peppered with a dose panic. One of the main characters said, “I am so glad I have decided to pursue my dream before the age of 50.”. And with that, I dove into the dark hole of questioning every work-related decision that I have made.
I took me a long time to realize that writing was my endgame. Thanks to my mother’s encouragement, I entered a Masters program that would cultivate my craft. This wasn’t the path I saw for myself, but grateful someone else did. That was when I was 36. I am now 51 years old wondering where I am suppose to be. I feel like I should hurry and get to the finish line. Did I miss the subtle messages that the universe loves to whisper? Am I wrapped up in a dream that may never come to fruition? Is this a mid-life crisis? At this point, I am needing a swift slap in the face because I am beginning to get a little manic and quite frankly, I am annoying myself.
As I commit to a second day of my writing schedule, I am mindful that I am exactly where I am suppose to be. There is a plan and God just hasn’t provided me with the 411. It will unfold in His time not mine. I have complained to Human Resources about His lack of communication, but haven’t heard back from them. The only thing that needs to hurry up is my willingness to not overthink, get out of my head because it is a bad neighborhood, and stop trying to label everything. My mantra today is “just write”. What is your mantra going to be?