Today I pretended I was twelve years old again. I went back to a time when I was energetic, imaginative, adventuresome, and free. Before I started hearing THE VOICES.
Today I tackled a landscaping project.
I marched outside, gathered my tools, and shushed THE VOICES in my head...the ones whining about how much work it was going to entail. The ones insisting I didn't have the strength for it. That things might not grow...and what a waste of time and money that would be. And don't I have more important things to do...and on and on.
These are the same VOICES that badger me when I sit down to write. THE VOICES of caution, negativity, misgiving, and constraint that claim to have my best interests at heart...which would be fine if my goal in life was to sit back and watch daytime TV for the rest of my life...
...but I have a novel to finish, a memoir to start, and a handful of stories to send out. I can't be listening to THE VOICES, nor should you.
Sometimes you have to attempt the impossible, take a chance, try something new. You have to be optimistic, idealistic, and determined. Sometimes you just have to be twelve again.
What age would you like to be again? Why?
" If you are happier writing than not writing,
painting than not painting,
singing than not singing,
acting than not acting,
directing than not directing,
for God's sake...
let yourself do it."
If you didn't have a chance to attend it, I'm happy to announce that the arts are alive and well in Harrisburg, PA.