It is said that those who blog should never apologize for
NOT blogging when they get behind. Yet, I must. For far too much time has
passed from one who supposedly loves to write. I apologize mostly to myself for
priorities misplaced.
Why do I not write? Why do I constantly just write about why
I don’t write instead of actually writing what I should write? I sit upon a burning fire knowing that eventually it shall extinguish if I refuse to move. What a waste to be left with nothing but painful scars.
I’m weary of blaming ‘worry,’ tired of blaming ‘fear.’
Though fear still remains, it can not be blamed totally. Identified, fear has
lost some of it’s power. Laziness seems to have crept in. Shall I blame it
instead?
Oh, I’m not lazy generally. In fact, my schedule screams
otherwise…school, work, family, church…study, study, study…housework,
housework, housework. Perfection demands constant attendance.
So why blame laziness? Because it feels like laziness. When I do stop for a breath, when I finally do
catch a few hours of ‘me’ time, I opt for sleep, television (albeit but little)
or staring in space contemplating what is ahead.
I feel lazy because I’m not being productive during these
times. Yes, sleep is important, but what about this dream to write? What about
this burning within me to create…to share. I feel as if I’m destined to birth
something great…well great for me anyway. But somehow I’m way past my due date.
If it is held inside me for too long I wonder if it will die? Or will I?
All I know is that I’m not heeding to life within. Instead I
follow the ‘they’ and the ‘them’…’those’ who know so little about me and
probably care far less then I give them credit for. I seek to please when I should be pleased to
seek. Seeking something greater than those connected with insecurities. There is this voice that pulls me to care less and do more. Wisdom begs me take another road.
Less caring for their thoughts would provide more energy for
action thus leading to a transparency, authenticity. Is it a personality
defect, habit, survival mechanism…this depending on the approval of you?
Hmmmm….perhaps it’s not laziness I feel but actually
exhaustion. Rejection, not being good enough, perfection. I must make up for what I think you think of
me even though what you think is not what I am. Oh the weariness of
imagination. So with all the wondering (and wandering) I must aim higher...to be even better. To prove to you
I am more than I think you think I am. (Confused? Imagine how I feel most
days…overthinking, analyzing, critiquing...myself mainly.)
I weary with such process of compensation and end up not being
the joyful me…the one I like better, the one 'those' who truly know of me like best.
It’s easier to sleep. Easier to R.E.M. than to work toward real dreams. And that is lazy
thinkin. Wow...I’m back to where I'd started from. All that to say I’m sorry for not
writing. No wonder I’m so tired!
So off to sleep I go…Perhaps tomorrow I shall awake to truly
dream.
All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible. ~T.E. Lawrence
http://lifeoutofthebox.com/2012/11/18/weekend-wisdom-dont-tell-people-your-dreams-show-them/