Idle Mind = Idle Fingers

HemingwayQuote-Writing-Bleed

 

A few years ago, I could write for hours. On any topic. It was therapeutic. Give me an hour and I would have an article knocked out. Relationships, domestic abuse, female empowerment, etc. I could put my opinions to paper without hesitation.

And then it all just stopped.

I don’t know exactly what caused the hiatus. I work a lot, but I had time to write. There were a few relationships, but those should have made me more loquacious for the amount of bullshit that was brought into my life. Social media, maybe? My posting on Facebook increased until I was posting several times each day.

My life just became routine. Exciting times have been had, but there hasn’t been anything inspiring about it. I recently turned 33, and my life at 33 doesn’t look very dissimilar than it was at 23. Except at 23, I was full of zest for life, eyes round at all of the things I would accomplish. I touted my independence and degrees, full of achievements! Ha. Today, I’m less boastful, more realistic. More confident and more certain of myself. I’m hell to deal with. I’m also on my way to bitter. Disappointed at the state of my career, disillusioned about love, depressed at my portfolio.

I was intelligent. I was attractive. Was that not all I needed to achieve what I wanted in life?

What I lacked was motivation. I wasn’t chasing anything. If I’m honest, I was dreaming a man would come into my life and bring excitement. And many men auditioned. But they weren’t what I needed. I, naively, believed that only meant he wasn’t the one so let’s try another one. (I had fun. I won’t lie.) It took much longer than it should have for me to realize that it wasn’t a man I needed. What I was missing was a relationship with myself, and more so, a relationship with God. Jeremiah 1:5 says “Before I formed you, I knew; and before you were born, I sanctified you.”

I came into this world as a promise and with a promise. And I have rested on my laurels for too extended a period. So I’ve picked up my pen. Or rather, I have placed my fingers upon mine keyboard. I will write myself into this next phase of my life. For in my words lies my strength.

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