No longer

Well the good news is I started the week with my morning pages. Yesterday I didn’t get to them until the afternoon and even then I was doing them while Isaac was interrupting me every few minutes to help him with school.  I gutted it out anyway and got it done.  I chose again to gut out my 3 pages this morning, even though I legitimately wanted to be writing this post instead. . I have to say I am always always surprised 1. as to how much I have to say when I think I have nothing to say 2. how purifying it is to say it and 3. what comes out once that first layer is skimmed off.

At the end of each chapter my new friend Julia, asks us to do a bunch of exercises. I pretty much don’t like any of them. Its nothing personal yet it is everything personal. I try to find the easiest ones to do first, pretending that I will go back and do the ones that challenge me more later. I am two weeks in and have yet to do that whole going back thing.
It actually feels quite vulnerable to share my whining attitude with you all, especially since no one is making me do this. Shame is whispering at the doorway of my heart, telling me how childish this is, and how I should erase it, delete every word. I can’t seem to stop though. Laying bare the shame is the only way I know how to silence it. Whining publicly is somewhat the only way I know to expose how much its not who I am. Matter of fact as I write these whining words, I can feel the betrayal in my heart. Glancing over my penned words my eyes communicate back what I am projecting out for you all to see, and I wonder who is that. It’s not me, I am an author. I am someone who isn’t afraid…yet I am. I have let this person, the whining, shame filled, delete happy one; be in charge of my writing. I have listened to them all these years; hiding the voices of compliments from them. They have dominated my heart when it comes to creativity and shortened every story, silenced every desire to get better.

I guess today is the beginning of no longer. No longer will I let whining shamed filled delete happy Katie be in charge of the writer in me. They will not have the reins of my creativity, dominating with criticalness and despair. Instead, I will merge two and nurture whining shamed filled delete happy Katie; so that we become one whole creative, submitted to the beauty and process of creating.


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