Sunday, April 3, 2011

VENT! VENT! VENT! Ahhhhhh!!!!!!

I'd like to say that I'm having a moment, but most days I feel like that's all I'm ever having. One moment after the next, and they're all confusing and cluttered and making me even more uncertain that the moment before.

Last night I talked myself to sleep thinking about all the things I wish I was blogging instead of dwelling on, but getting up and out of bed to come to the computer was even harder than stopping my mind. The endless drivel that made me grow even sadder as my day came to a close.

Fix it.

I think that all the time. If I just sit down for 5 minutes and "fix" the problem I wouldn't feel like all I'm really doing is exacerbating an issues - on repeat - but I'm not sure where to even start. I say thing same things over and over and over, but nothing ever changes and I feel lost.

At the end of the day (outside of my family) it comes down to two thing - writing and yoga; yoga and writing. They are my two loves - my two greatest loves, I should say. They are the two things that define me as a person and I feel like I neglect them more and more each day. Even right now I'm avoiding things to simply write this and I'm writing this now because later, during my Sunday alone time fix, I have to write a post for my other blog, prep for a meeting tomorrow at 9:30a and figure out my week in general.

Just write.

I just want to write my heart out - there are so many stories boxed up in there and when I do sit down, doubt begins to sneak its way into my every though and then I'm not sure that it's worth it... Right now I'm having a moment of clarity  and in this moment I know I need to get over myself, trust myself, have faith in myself and persevere - but when my son is sick and the bills are late and the phone is ringing and the emails are piling up and I have to teach, and I have to do this, that and every other thing known to man because evidently I'M the ONLY person who can...

Ironically, I'm on vacation.

I can't remember the last time I had a vacation where I had a chance to relax... what was it, 2009? Before that perhaps?

It has gotten to the point I just feel like a used up mess, and yes, there are days that aren't as tainted and dreary as this moment - other moments when I'm all smiles and sunshine - but the truth is I think about this 10+ times a day and its always the same. "When is it time that I'm allowed to write?"

When am I allowed to be me?

I never feel like I can just BE me. My voice is so silent any more, which is a terrible thing to happen to a writer - no voice - no art. All I am is a machine that washes clothing, dishes, toilets and tubs - makes dinner, breakfasts and lunches. All I am is a robot servant at best and I grow even sadder as I write it out on this screen, because it feels so true.

This, my friends, is the worse feeling ever. Worthless. Hopeless. Wasted. Stupid.

and even a little bit pathetic because instead of getting up off my arse and doing something about it - I'm unloading on you. (thank you for that)

UGH!!!! OK - it's time to face the music and deal with the crap that is the life I build around me. If I want to write and be the yogi I want to be I need to write and read more. I need to take classes and learn so I can teach.

Most of all I need to stop with the excuses, lying to myself, ignoring my gut and get to getting. All prayers are welcome!

must stop hiding behind excuses
must just be me
writer, yogi, aryn

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