It finally dawned on me today as I was writing that I am an ostrich. Full on head buried in the sand, face no evil kind of gal. My first book I wrote contained some dark characters, yet I realized today how afraid I have been to show the ugly. Perhaps I just could not bear to bring forth more dark into a world so in need of light? Perhaps I was just hiding from my own demons. Although, honestly, I am a self-aware gal so I truly think that my fondness of carbs is the extent of my malice. Therefore, it can only be that I am afraid.
Fear is such an oddly powerful emotion. It drives us into safety, as intended when we as humans truly did require a good dose of fear to continue the race. However, now, I see it as just an annoying block in my own head. It keeps me mired in work I do not enjoy and from pursuing paths that are more artistic. It keeps me from daring to dream. In short, it’s just a controlling power that I simply am ready to be rid of.
Thankfully, we are provided guides on this journey we call life. One guide is my dear friend Jami who inspires me daily to keep in balance. Health balanced with decadence, work balanced with play, well you get the idea. For a Libra like me who craves balance, she is a marvelous guide.
I found my other guide through the work I do not enjoy, and yet it fills my life with all the things I require. Regardless of my dislike, it gives anyway. A few weeks ago, one such gift was in the form of a required class. The class was about energy of the body, emotion, mind, and spirit. Through this class, I realized yes I have a passion for writing. Yet, I spend zero energy in pursuit of that passion. Therefore, I can’t complain about work not giving me the passion in life I seek when I spend zero time chasing this dream I claim to possess.
This then led me to the conclusion that fear was my true enemy. Not the work I do every day. As such, the only thing to do is conquer it, one day at a time, and one word at a time, until at last my energy is balanced. Today, I feel that balance. I did not want to write, yet I knew I needed to. I wrote 37 words in my piece. That is it. 37.
Caught up in my own vortex of misery, I failed to notice the dark car pull up behind me. The scream barely formed in my throat when with a crack of my skull the world went black.
Damn it Alisa! My newest character will not be finding love in the first fifty pages. She still does not know who she is let alone why she feels passion for a man, who knows her name, seems to know everything about her and yet when opportunity arises does not return her affection. Humiliated, she runs from him and into the hands of evil. Damn it Alisa, I did not want you in the hands of evil. I wanted to write fun pages about finding the color in life. Perhaps I need dark in order for light to triumph. Only by continuing to return to the keyboard daily will I ever find out.
At least I am no longer afraid to take this direction, my hard won 37 words proves that!