It's been a little while since I wrote anything resembling my thoughts on here, and I'm not really sure what the hold up has been. I guess I burned myself out a little, or needed to take a step back from it and see what I was doing here. The act of writing is a private and powerful one for me, as it's a direct link into my heart and mind, and so constantly putting myself out there for the sake of views not only compromises the quality of my material but my own personal well-being.
It's ironic, really, that as private a person as I am, I write so frequently and put myself out there without a second's thought most times. It's almost like once it hits the paper, it's no longer real to me, or at the very least no longer holds any relevance to my life; it's dead. A moot point. This is why it's such a powerful adaptive tool for me, and not just a hobby.
You cannot impose a time limit to a work of creativity; it being an organic process, it should be expected to come in ebbs and flows, subject to waxing and waning and dry spells. I like to defeat myself by acknowledging how I STILL have not written a book and do not even write on a regular basis, and that I should be sending my stuff out to small magazines and such to be published.
I'm a big believer in things happening for their own reasons and in their own time, so this is not something I'm comfortable with, or even capable of, rushing. It will happen one day when my own personal stars align. If it does not, then it doesn't change one single thing about who I am as a person. This is who I am, and my writing is a direct reflection of that. With it, I can let myself be me without fear of internal judgements or criticisms.
I'm happy with where I'm at right now and look forward to continuing to grow in power and scope, until one day my masterwork is fully realized. until then, here's another blog post.
-Shane 11.3.13
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