Why am I not writing?
I am writing, but often it is someone else’s words and so is that writing? I’ve been summarizing the ideas of others as practice to get me to the screen and putting words down on the page and it has been a great way to loosen up my words. It’s a bit of reporting and summarizing and it is a bit of transcribing.
There is one problem with that. The words are not mine. They are someone else’s. And no matter how much they resonate and how much I believe in what they are saying they are not mine. It’s time to get back into my body and listen. It is time to write from my heart, put the words on paper. My hearts desires are waiting to be expressed and I have to get back to it.
Why am I not writing my words? That’s the real question, isn’t it .
I’ve been holding back and playing small for a lot of reasons, but most of them are clearing and this is the time for me. It is time for me to spew out the feelings and the vision and experience that is mine and mine alone.
I am afraid to do it, but not as afraid as I was before.
I am no longer afraid of what my family thinks, I still feel some of that fear deep down but I’ve gotten to the point where I can say fuck that shit and continue. Just clear it and continue with my life and move on from the rigid box that I’ve been in for so long.
A coffin, I’ve been in a self imposed coffin, one of my choosing and I didn’t even choose a luxurious model for fucks sake. I chose one with bindings and limits, one that required sacrifice to god and appeasement of the twelve who held me in their twisted wrappings for centuries. I chose a coffin with a lid so thick and dark and heavy that there was no amount of lifting that would take it off of me, a burden that was so familiar after the many lives I carried it that I felt it was a part of me. It was a burden that I carried alone.
I’ve climbed out.
I felt my way, followed the whispers and secrets of the ancients and repeated the mantras, the clearings that were suggested, not imposed.
I made a choice for me and took the first steps required to slide that heavy lid aside to let just a little bit of light in. and once I saw, once my eyes adjusted to the light I had let in, the small sliver of hope, I realized that I wanted more and my voice got stronger and I was more determined, I stood a bit taller, straightened my spine and held my head a little higher. I spoke the words in a louder voice and pushed the twelve away.
When the end came, the sky was revealed to me in all its blazing colors like the sunrise at the lake and I knew that I was on the right track.