Journal Through Time

For much of my adult life, I've had the idea that I want to write a book. It's a thought and sometimes becomes action, I type paragraphs into this document titled "the book" on my computer, little snip-its of stories, ideas, musings. I began journaling today with the thought of what is missing from my life? I realized as I wrote, that it is this creative expression, the way we express our divine Self. We come from a creator, how ever you define that, and we must continue to express that creator through ourselves, to recreate to stay connected to this source of great energy. We do it in little and small ways. I've had this "thing" for lack of a better word, brewing in me, waiting to be unleashed, and I realized as I journaled that what stops me from taking on this journey of a the book, is fear. Fear it won't be well received, fear no one will want to publish it, fear I'll be laughed at for thinking that I was capable of writing a book. You know the tape recording that play in our minds when we choose to live out of fear not love? Everything could go wrong, or everything could go right. I have stacks and stacks of journals that I have kept over the years. I am fascinated by what I read when I sift through them, poetry, words of wisdom, the tales of painful struggles, broken heartedness, immense joy and discovery of my Self. And so, I realize, I need to commit to myself to write, to find time, regularly (and I'm not entirely sure what that means yet) to work on this, to birth this thing inside of me. It's been calling me to for years. I have to trust that the process of writing it is what I need, not the fame or fortune I might dream will come out of it. I have visions of an Oprah appearance, a national book tour. You never know, BUT, I realize, wholeheartedly, I have to do it for what I will uncover, discover and recover of myself. It's all about the journey...