I sit here, I sip coffee, I listen to my dogs play. The sun will soon rise. As the sun tends to do every new day I am a part of.
What I know I need to do most is to continue my work as a writer. I must continue to push forward. The light at the end of the tunnel is simple: I step outside of myself and see the magnificent world and the beings living within this planet. So special and when I observe I am delighted and overjoyed each time I gaze up a tree or a butterfly.
People are magnificent too. Just filter out the dramatic. Those warthogs who edge themselves and others are whimsical in the negative sense, as it relates to any circumstance.
I find that I must be tough on myself. No one else will. I must show myself the true meaning of patience. To practice meditation, to live the meditation. Become one with myself. I used to think I should conquer the inner demons. Today I say in a confident voice that I merely need accept who I am. I don’t need give into the drama. Just accept the passing feelings and move onward. Experience is just that- it’s what we experience from moment to moment. We feel emotions, yet we don’t have to attach ourselves to these emotional feelings. Just feel and go with the moment. For the moment can never be contained, or captured. There’s no sense in attempts to dwell on a moment. One can lose themselves in a moment. Rather I wander forward with the moment. The unknown. And I’m not worried, angry, afraid, or anxious. Not depressed. Not really silly or goofy. Just me. Existing.
Fiction writers write fiction on the regular. Be that every two times a month, every day, or once every six months. Writers must write. It can be a word, words, sentences, paragraphs. Those turn into articles, essays, flash stories, short stories, novelettes, novellas, novels. It can be done. I used to fear the process. I was so afraid that I didn’t have it within me to sustain efforts for such a monumental journey. I was wrong about that. I am able to write as much as I please. All I have to do is sit down, type, see that the words are what I want them to be, and continue to type. Then when my mind tells me it’s time to stop, or take a break, that’s what I do. Whenever the urge comes to me to write, I go and write. It’s like this for me. Maybe it’s different for you- surely there are many ways to skin a cat.
I go now to sip more coffee. See if my cell phone has enough charge to game some MK mobile. Then I will read. Watch some Simpsons. Play with the dogs. Love my life, myself. Read more. Write more. Eat something. Drink more coffee. And so on and so on.
See you next time,
Phil