I woke to the sun shining after a grey, storming, freezing day yesterday. Sore throat last night. Horrible dreams. Yesterday I couldn’t get my pig parent out of my head. Nobody wants to hear this story any more, so why don’t you just move on for Christ’s sake.
We move on when we’ve meet whatever need is holding us back. So I must still have unmet needs over my bankruptcy and my more distant past. When I can identify them enough to meet them, I’ll move on. If I look at people around me who don’t deal with their past it looks like they’ve moved on, but have they really? Maybe they’re addicted to food, alcohol, or money even, or neurotic relationships. The only way I can avoid that is to do what I’m doing. Feel, articulate and express the energy, listen for what I need, meet the need as best I can.
It’s got to be okay. Moving on is a natural consequence. You can’t force it. I long for it, though. There’s such a huge gap in my mind between where I am and where I want to be. I’ve spent all of my life being so uncomfortably conscious of that gap, hoping resolution will be round the corner, hoping I’ll figure it out. I haven’t got there yet. I think I’m on the way, though. What am I saying? I know I am.
I often forget that my current poverty isn’t a sign of my future, it isn’t a death sentence on my dreams and my real needs to be secure and mobile in the world; stimulated and productive. That’s when fear constricts my being. I try to remember not to listen.
My best prospect is to carry on writing and somehow try to survive. Hold onto my faith. I’m working on film scripts, my blog, crime fiction. The thing you put your energy into, that’s what you end up doing.
One day it’ll be over. “Yes, I can” makes me feel much better about myself and my life than “I don’t deserve and I can’t”. My choice. I’m thrilled that I can at least some of the time make the choice that adds value to my life.
Gotta go. Gotta have breakfast. Gotta write!