This was my vision board until I destroyed it. I think it was last month. I took it down off the wall and ripped it up then tossed it into the garbage. This was my first vision board that I made in January or February of 2010.
Why did I destroy it? Because it was becoming more of a “collage” – just another picture hanging on the wall rather than a point of focus, contemplation and inspiration. And also because I was frustrated, down and feeling like a failure on several levels creatively. So rather than look at it any longer and realize that I have not taken my own advice and inspirations, I tore it down and threw it out thus removing the offending thing from my view.
Do I regret it? Not really. I did take pictures of it a while back so I have them still. But I think it is time for a new board with new inspirations, new goals, new ideals.
It’s true that I haven’t been writing. I haven’t felt like writing lately. It just hasn’t beckoned me. I’ve also been avoiding it and that is not good. I’m not sure why exactly. Lately I have been feeling stressed with a side of depression. Nothing like last year mind you, but it’s there lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to seep in and set up camp. I’m fighting it the best I can and I’m doing a fairly decent job so far.
Or thought I was.
That was until my dad pulled some of his shenanigans again. It was just a letter but it was the subtext, his trademark subtext that is quite clear as though it were in sweeping bold print that is impossible to miss. I know better and I’m used to his hit and runs but it still blisters like hell. It’s taken me a couple weeks to get over. It’s like being sent out into a thick, impenetrable fog. I hate that feeling. I wish he’d leave me alone. If he can’t be a real father and be normal then just go away. It’s because of him I’ve constantly questioned my worth as a person and my intelligence. I’ve worked hard to get over that but it’s like going back to a high school reunion. All those old insecurities flare up like they’ve never left and leave you shaky and vulnerable. UGH!
I know the biggest issue is that I am LETTING this happen. I know that and I hate that. I need to get over it and get on with my life. I know that. I know that. Knowing and doing are two separate things. I know it and I need to DO it.
Big picture, what is my vision for myself? What is it I want to do? Doesn’t it seem like I’ve been over and over and over this countless times? It has! It’s getting old!
What’s wrong with me? Why do I continue down this dreadful path of self-doubt and disillusionment?
Three words: Because. I. Can.
Stupid. I know. But it is true.
I’ve erected this gigantic barricade and somehow I’m standing on both sides of it. There is the true self, the happy me – the me achieving my full potential on one side and then there is the self-doubting, self-loathing, lump of a me that is standing here on this side. Somehow I have to figure out how to break down that wall and merge into that other me – the happy, creatively successful one.
Some people tell me to write, just write. But as much as I love writing, that is not ALL I love to do. I have a myriad of interests from cooking, crocheting, sewing, painting, coding, composing music, kettlebells (which I hope to become a certified trainer-RKC someday), gardening and of course, spending time with my three-year-old. Writing is not all I do. It is part of me but not ALL of me. That does NOT mean I will never be published. I refuse to even think that. My problem is I like TOO many things. I have TOO many interests. You don’t even want to know the list of things I wanted to be growing up or the things I am STILL fascinated with and read all I can about.
It’s fun but it is also sort of a pain. What am I good at? What is my passion? What am I meant to do? Those are my daily questions.
Music used to be such a huge part of my life. At one time that was what I was known for. It was what everyone expected me to do with my life – study music and then teach and/perform. I had dreams of being the next Benny Goodman and having my own Big Band – playing Carnegie Hall and simply performing. I play Clarinet and piano and sing (not all at the same time, mind you!)
Along with writing, music was my life. Until my parents’ divorce and then that all came crashing down and I ran from it as far as I could…all the way out to Montana. I miss music but the perfectionist in me cannot handle all the mistakes I make now as I try to get back my embouchure for playing the clarinet or reclaim my “limber” fingers when playing the piano. My vocals are still there but I don’t put them to use as I should. I am mad at myself for letting all that go. I made that decision ultimately and I regret it every day. Funny thing is I swore I would never be that person – that person who threw it all away. Ha. The last laugh is on me I guess.
I need to get a grip on myself and stop letting external forces invade my peace of mind. I wish I could quiet my mind so the muses could do their work. It’s like I won’t LET myself do this and THAT is what is SO ultimately and truly frustrating.
I wish I could duplicate this passion I have for kettlebells into my creative life. I would be creating and producing like a mad woman! And that would be amazing!
More than anything, I wish writing was like it was when I was younger – typing away on my old Royal typewriter – tucked up in my bedroom – oblivious to everything around me. Or when I was in college and on a steady and oh so fulfilling intellectual diet. I felt so alive and creatively “juiced” all the time.
I realize that it is a daily decision to feel one way or the other. It’s time I figure that out and put it to practice. I just have to do it and stop bitching about it. I prefer to call it venting and organizing my thoughts. 🙂
Ultimately, I need to bury the past and just let it go or it will swallow me up. I can’t let that happen. I have to move on and make peace with it all finally. Then I will be able to move on.