There I said and ouch, it hurts. If I did know who I was, then I wouldn’t be talking about myself so much.
Now that I’m done having children, I feel like I’m waking up from a long arduous slumber of the soul, that everything has been on hold for so long that I’ve forgotten meaning of individuality and the pursuit of greatness. (The theory is that since we have kinds every 4.5 years, and it’s exactly 4.5 years later and no new kids, we’re kind of freaking out).
Here’s what I do know: I’m a writer, and more recently, an editor. The paths before me are either entrepreneur or artist. It seems very hard to be both. One feels more noble, the other feels more practical. One feels super risky, the other feels attainable. Whatever it is I “am” I need to decide very quickly. Because I’m so sick of writing the expository essays like I’m back in eight grade again. It’s so childish.
Now let’s directly confront my fears:
– fear of being judged by artists
– fear of failing again and letting people down
– fear of indecision
– fear of fear!
This is why meditation much be so important. It brings clarity to things. I’m searching for clarity as to whether I’m an artist or an entrepreneur, or both(?). I wish I had a mentor from the start. This is what my children need.
I refuse to give up on this no matter how much I don’t like feeling this way.