Therapeutic bloggage ...

Reading the blogs of others is a favorite pastime of mine. Not only do I read those among my Y360 friends, I read several others as well - Crazy Aunt Purl, Yarn Harlot, Bad Hippie (when she gets time to post) are my top three. There is also Boobs, Injuries & Dr. Pepper, who I think is pretty funny, too. They are wonderful highlights to my day, often very thought provoking, deeply emotional or hysterically funny posts. The most recent entry of CAP was both a thought provoking and emotional post, which obviously, has prompted an entry of my own.

What exactly prompted this entry? Well, it was this ...

"I have been waiting until conditions were perfectly right to live fully. Apparently I think somewhere off in the future there is a really good life and if I wait long enough I will get to it."

Ouch!

I believe I resemble that remark.

Purl wrote a lot of other things that truly hit home as well. I sat here at the computer this morning, reading and crying (she also talked about Roy - which made me boo-hoo like a big goob) and thinking about how, in an odd way, it was as if she was also writing about me and my life. I've been on hold and hadn't even realized it. Well, uh, ain't that kick in the teeth?

How does/did this happen?

I think a large part of it is because I'm so undecided on what to do with myself, questioning what I truly want my life to be. There are lots of things I would like to do but can't find that spark which completely lights me up .... remember that whole "what makes my soul dance" thing I blogged about not long ago? I'm still debating, still wondering, still searching. But most importantly, it comes down to one cold, hard fact; I'm realizing I'm afraid of taking those "would like to do" chances. Why is that?

Do you know how hard it was for me to list in my profile information that I'm psychic? That I'm a Medium? That I do Intuitive Tarot reading? Putting it in there left me feeling exposed, open to attack - from what or whom I'm not sure, but it's what I felt nonetheless. To introduce yourself as a psychic is to be immediately thought of as a freaky caftan wearing', turbaned carnival huckster weirdo.

Okay, I admit I'm weird, but I don't wear own turban. Psychic abilities are something everyone has, whether they realize it or not, yet consider how the general public regards psychics and y'all will understand what I mean about being afraid to say it out loud. Here in this area were I live it could easily get my home vandalized, or something worse. I live in what's called the Bible Belt - and it's called that for a reason. Wall-to-wall bible thumpers passing their form of religious judgment. Not being a God fearing Baptist in this neck of the woods is risky business.

Do you know how hard it was for me to confess I would love to write? Everybody and their momma wants to be a writer. CAP and Yarn Harlot are so good at it. They are published authors for cryin' out loud. And look at the gazillions of books lining the shelves at your local Barnes & Noble ... who am I to think I can do that? What do I really have to say that anyone wants to read? I mean, really. It's a pretty grandiose statement to say, "I want to write a book." I still get the shivers thinking about letting that cat out of the bag.

Did you know it took me several years to be able to say to people that I'm an professional artist and not visibly cringe or stutter over the words. Being an artist is yet another "flaky weirdo" profession. And yes, I do still occasionally have a hard time saying it. Even though I have a website, have sold paintings and prints, have done many commissioned pieces, have been published in magazines, taught classes, and have my work hanging in a store for sale it still sometimes feels like I'm a fake, like I'm trying to fool people into taking me seriously.

As for me personally? I'm still waiting to grow up. I'm 42 years old and 90% of the time I feel like an ignorant, geeky teenager. I'm waiting for that elusive state of mind that I can be wise and adult and mature. I'm waiting for that time when I'll be self-confident, self-assured, speaking and acting and living a life complete in my own power and abilities. I'm waiting to grow into being whoever it is that I'm supposed to be.

In essence, I'm waiting for my life to start. Oh how sad that realization is.

I'm afraid of it not starting and afraid to get it started. Oh how much sadder that is.

The bigger question is what am I going to do about it? Oh what a good question that is.

For now I'm going to go down the hall into the studio and paint. While I'm in there I'm going to seriously think about it, and hopefully, find a spark.