Apr 22, 2014 |
I’m afraid of my own success. What if achieving my dreams means changing everything I know about my life?
I am my own worst enemy. I love stability of structure and I’m not one to shed the security blanket easily.
But often, blank pages hold just as much accusations as they do promise.
Blank Pages are the World’s Canvas
I play the “What If” game too often because, in the past, the “What If’s” happened. The bad ones. The oh-my-God-this-could-only-happen-to-me and the I’m-one-in-a-million-and-not-in-a-good-way ones. The I’m-being-sabotaged-and-no-one-will-stand-up-for-me ones. The life-will-never-be-the-same-again ones.
And I really love stability.
So when anything comes along that can upset the apple cart, I get nervous.
I’ve had to learn to recognize my anxiety triggers. I know to avoid too much coffee on those high-adrenaline days. I have a “smart shopping” checklist on my iPhone for those necessary eat-out-but-not-fast-food days. The older I get, the better I am at listening to my body. My emotions may want chocolate ganache, but my bloodstream craves caffeine-free Gatorade.
Better sleep + better foods = better emotions.
So the anxiety doesn’t get to me like it used to. Of course, there are certain elements that are no longer around. That helps, too. You know what I’m talking about: those button-pusher people who are as good at backstabbing as they are at infiltrating. Those situations that belong on a soap opera and not in my life. I’ve been lucky to distance myself from the hurts and the hurtful. But their shadows remain.
I’ve had to retrain myself to not be afraid, the way others wanted to keep me afraid. Of sharing myself. Of living authentically. Of being the Me I’m supposed to be. Their false condemnations that who I was wasn’t good enough, would never be good enough. That I had deep, dark secrets to be spilled instead of forgiveness to be shared.
But now I know.
I’m better than that.
I’m better than what they said.
I’m better.
But I’m still afraid.
I’m still okay with the bad “What If’s”. The ones I can’t control.
But . . .
What if I am successful? What if I achieve everything I know I’m meant to do?
What if I conquer it all . . .
And I win?
The last few years were so hard. You’ve heard my poverty stories before. I know I’m not unique. I know there are many more people out there fighting just like me to save their homes and feed their families and do a thousand dollars worth of repairs on a nickel budget. People who don’t have the resources that I have, people who don’t have other people to come alongside them and cheer them on or pull them back on to the path.
And I’m not trying to complain. But my life is such a dichotomy between the dregs of the economy and the elation of my soaring words.
I don’t want to be stuck here any more. I don’t want to whine and complain and worry and cry.
But I do.
Yet, I see my way out. I see the path that I’ve laid, and I see where it’s going.
I no longer put the word “aspiring” before “writer” when I tell people what I do. I am a writer. I am a good writer. The rest of the world will soon discover how great a writer I am.
My “new” workspace ~ a real desk!
In the last two months, just eight short weeks, my writing universe has grown by leaps and bounds. I have my desk. I’ve met some wonderful people who are turning out to be great connections. I saw the need for a position with my writers club and asked to create it. [The result was a resounding yes: I’m now the official Social Media Manager for the California Writers Club, High Desert Branch, come join the fun on Facebook.] All four books are progressing fast. I might soon have The Unemployment Cookbook on local bookstore shelves. My critique group is essential to me in a craft capacity, and a fellowship.
All these are the beginnings of what I have always prayed for, always held my breath and crossed my fingers for. All these are essential to me being Me.
To be able to put food on the table and gas in the car and pay the bills on time and stop these damned collection calls and not “borrow” money that everyone knows until I win the lottery I will never be able to pay it back.
And that scares me, too. It scares me because it’s possible financial stability is on the five-year horizon. If I don’t need my family, my mommy and brothers, any more, will they still need me?
If Megan and I obtain all we’re reaching for, do I have to give up being home every night with Dot and our FurFamily?
If I don’t have to worry about tomorrow as much as I currently do, what will I do with that happiness?
I don’t want to be arrogant or a celebrity. I just want to be the best writer I can possibly be. I want to share my stories with the world. And yes, I would like to know that my stories make a difference.
And make money. Let’s be real. This is how I want to pay my bills. This is how I long to provide for my family.
For my family.
MoJo & Dot
And so I write my stories. My poems. My blogs. My thoughts and suspicions and dreams and nightmares. And I share them. And I collect them for future publication. And I keep on writing it out. Because I can’t be the only one who thinks like this, right? I can’t be the only one who feels so incomplete and so uplifted at the same time . . . right?
This is my calling. To be the best writer I know how to be. To tell the world about life in a way that can only be told by me.
But I’m not there yet. I’m still taking the journey. And at times it’s dark and twisty and scary. My heart pounds inside my chest and I can’t catch my breath.
What If I’m wrong? What If my path is a dead-end? What If those shadows are still waiting to sabotage me? What If I lose the house before I earn enough to save it? What If more bad than good happens?
Can I keep going on?
Yes.
So I let my light shine. From inside. Whatever light I have, I broadcast it.
Sometimes it’s a candle. Sometimes it’s the sun.
The end of the path will never be a reality. I’m thankful for that. With each step taken, there’s another step to take.
While I’m still here, still bringing with me the pains of the past, still glimpsing an uncertain future, I do know this: I have something to say.
And I can say it well.
I just need the rest of the world to listen.
As I sit here drafting this post, trying not to complain, trying to look for the light and not worry about tomorrow or the distractions it brings, my friend Janice posted this on her Facebook profile:
“Strength & resilience emerge by your own will to become a better person, no matter what downfalls happen in your life… be your own hero.”
Thanks, Janice. You are, as always, the right person at the right time.
How do you like them apples?!
How Do You Like Them Apples?!
“Then Jesus said to his disciples: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothes.” [Luke 12:22-23, NIV]
And Frankly, My Dear . . . that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
Apples
Poverty: My Story
I am Defined. And I am a Mystery.
This post is linked up with Shell at Things I Can’t Say. Because sometimes, we just can’t.
Mar 28, 2014 |
Five Things Friday at Frankly, My Dear…
This week I received a wonderful comment on a Five Things Friday post from last summer. It was about poetry, but when I reread the post today, I remembered it was also about the Writer’s Club I belong to. Having someone recognize a post I wrote so long ago makes me feel better about writing and blogging and, honestly, just sharing life in general.
Taryn’s comment also inspired me to reinstate the Five Things Friday blog posts. And what theme could be better to re-kick it into gear than, well, better? My favorite word of this year, and probably for life.
Let’s get this started ~ here are my Five Things Friday: Better.
1. Writing. Y’all saw my new desk last week, right? How could my writing not be better when I have such a great place to write?
BETTER! 2014
The plan must be working. Megan and I have locked up the first three chapters of Book 1 of The Grenalia Chronicles. We can’t wait for you to read about Amara, Saven, Fisal, Delving, Yez, Berin, Amrais and Linwe. Yes, we made up those names. Invented a few creatures. And are in the midst of creating a magical fantasy filled with swords and sorcery and dragons and . . . well, you’ll just have to stay tuned. We’re also keeping a notebook of things we write that won’t be in the final draft. Someday, that notebook will be a best seller in itself. We have quite the sense of humor when we’re tired.
2. All roads lead to NOLA. I’m also working hard on my novel set in New Orleans. My characters are coming to life bigger than ever. I tasted my first beignet two weeks ago, and it was everything I thought it would be. Of course, it’s not from Cafe du Monde, but it was acceptable.
My not-from-Cafe-de-Monde Beignet
I have a goal to finish NOLA by the end of this year, sell it big, and celebrate at next year’s Mardi Gras. That would pretty much make This Girl oh-so-happy. And y’all know Harry Connick, Jr. hails from NOLA, right? Yes, indeedy. Seeing him on American Idol every week ~ twice a week, at that ~ is just another way to keep me inspired.
3. Budget. It took a lot to get here, to the point where I’m secure in my finances. Let me rephrase that: my budget stinks. But I refuse to stress over it. Yes, I still have trouble making ends meet. Yes, I’ll be in trouble if a big emergency happens. But I’m not unique. I’m not special. Everyone is hitting hard times. The best I can do is the best I can do. It’s okay to tell the creditors that I can’t pay in full this month. It’s okay to pay just $5 more than the minimum payment. It’s okay to wait until just before the due date. And it’s okay to not feel bad for not doing more. All I can do is all I can do. And as long as I’m really trying, I’m seeing those glimpses of success. And someday soon, one bill will be paid off. And then another. And then another. And it may take another few months, or another year or two before I can take another trip to Disneyland or eat a beignet at Cafe du Monde. However long it takes, I’m okay with that.
4. My Housing Project. I’m still working on my dirt lot of a yard. I’ve decided to put little effort into changing it, and more effort into cleaning up and maintaining it. Next year I can plant and plot. This year will be the pre-work work. This summer I’ll pull up old stumps, weed, rake, and do whatever else it takes on the outside. The only planting for this year has already been done. I bought two more Photinia for under the Big Window, and a dwarf Pomegranate tree.
Photinia
Dwarf Pomegranate
On the inside, we’re doing things better, too. I hung curtains in the laundry room.
Laundry Room Door with Curtains
I love it. It’s a nice soft look for the house, blocks the bright summer sun, and keeps the neighbors from glimpsing over the fence line. (Thankfully, I have decent neighbors who don’t have voyeuristic tendencies.) It’s the finishing touch to the laundry room.
5. Appreciation. It’s a little thing, but what a difference it makes! I’m trying to put forth better effort into appreciating the people already in my life, the things around me, and the experiences I’ve had. I’m more aware that my perceptions of the world outside myself isn’t necessarily the reality. I don’t know the inner struggles of someone else unless they choose to tell me. I can’t understand the physics or engineering of putting a building together. But I’m thankful for the shelter. I want to be patient with what goes into making my life mine, and I want to better express my thanks to all that is already a part of it. If I do all that I can do, I hope it’s enough. Sometimes it’s hard to put into words. Sometimes all I can say is “thank you”. But I’m definitely paying attention. And I definitely have a new appreciation for everything, and everyone.
And those are my betters for Five Things Friday. What are yours? Leave your comments or link up your own blog posts in the comments below.
Thanks for reading!
And Frankly, My Dear . . . that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
The Friday Five – STORIES
Five Things Friday – TRAVEL
Five Things Friday: Everything Old is NEW Again
Five Things Friday: POETRY
Five Things Friday: The Big Easy
Five Things Friday: Safety in Numbers
Mar 24, 2013 |
I said this to a friend yesterday. I was completely sincere.
He’d had a heart attack nine months ago. Without warning. I woke up one Sunday to read on Facebook, “Had a heart attack last night.” I tried to figure out what he meant. Was he referring to a fright? Did his sports team lose? It wasn’t until he posted a photo of him in the hospital bed that I realized he was serious: he’d had an actual heart attack. As we were chatting this weekend about so many things in life, I thanked him for not dying.
Another friend of mine went through a bad health scare a few years ago, yet focuses his attentions on helping others before himself. Still someone else is suffering depression and it saddens me that I can’t be a stronger help for her.
So many people don’t realize their importance to others. We take our friends and even our families for granted. While we share ourselves to an extent, we may never really know what’s going on inside someone else’s mind, body or soul. Anything can happen at any given moment.
Everyone has something to offer; a reason for being in our lives. I’m a strong believer in letting people know how you feel.
This is for each and every one of you still in my life.
My Dearest Person,
Thank you for not dying.
You are valuable to me in ways I can’t fully express. You have honored me with your trust, your respect, your company. You are an example to me of how live through hard times, and celebrate Something Good.
There are times when I have felt useless and burdensome yet you never let me stop being me. You helped build the foundation of my life and while I try often, I don’t think I thank you enough.
Words can’t express what I really want to say to you. I’m so grateful to have you to laugh with, to cry with, to ask help from and be a help to. I want you to know that being a part of your life is so rewarding to me. You’re not perfect; I’m not perfect. But together, we’re a perfect blend of give and take.
My memories of us will never be forgotten. I love that we’re adding to them constantly. I can’t possibly imagine my life without you. And I’m so glad at this point in time, I don’t have to.
Whatever you went through, are going through, will go through… Thank you for not dying.
Thank you for being a part of my life.
With much love,
Molly Jo
Expand Your Horizons
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
You may also enjoy reading:
Not Such a Bad Day
Using The “F” Word
Afterthoughts
Friends v. Friends
To the Young Adult Females in My Life
To The One Who Lost Someone This Week and Others Who Are Hurting
Dear Amy, I’m Just So Sorry For Your Loss.
Do You Mean It?
Promise Me We’ll Be Like Them
Jan 23, 2013 |
As I start this, I just know it will end up on Shell’s “Pour Your Heart Out” Page. I’m thankful for her keeping that weekly link up open so I can spill my emotional vomit and not be the only one doing it. Misery loves company, right?
Okay, so it’s not all miserable. But it’s a lot of what I can’t, or won’t, normally write. Today’s post is about life. And death. And a few things in between.
The last week has been a mixture of endurance, sorrow, mourning, and sickness. The details don’t really matter. My Blog friend, Jenn, nailed it when she said this is “vague blogging”. Not so much a fan of teasing y’all… but there really are some things I just can’t say. Ever.
Except today I’m sad. I’m just utterly sad and tired and worn out… and, of course, hopeful. Because regardless of how bad things are (and I thought they were bad a month ago… boy was that just a prelude!), nevertheless, I’m still loved. And sheltered. And cared for. And breathing. So it’s okay.
That’s the part I’m choosing to remember. The parts that turn the bad stuff into Something Good. That even my worst is someone else’s best. I’m blessed, I’m rich, I’m healthy. Even when it doesn’t seem like it.
And I could sit here giving myself a Pity Party. I choose not to. That doesn’t mean I’m not tired or worn out or feeling down. It just means I can still smile about it. And if all I know is only that, it’s still enough.
I can’t even say life goes on… for some, it doesn’t.
It’s completely strange yet comforting that most of my tears fell at the end of FLASHPOINT. It wasn’t just the end of this wonderful series that got me. It was the catalyst that allowed me to face the pains inside. It gave me permission to cry. It was a bit confusing… and a bit cathartic.
It was symbolic of so much. The highs and lows of the last week. The beginning of some things… and the end of others.
And then there are the stories I can’t tell, because they’re not mine to tell. The stories that leave a pain in my soul that isn’t easily healed. So I hold on to hope that this, too, shall pass.
Dot is under the weather tonight. I’m hoping she just needs a good night’s sleep. We’ve been house-hopping to Mom’s for a few days because the furnace is out. Again. The fifth time since Christmas. And it’s finally been given its last legs, a new one has been ordered. It was suggested that we get a carbon monoxide detector “just in case”. While it hasn’t sounded an alarm yet, there’s that keyword yet. I’ll be sleeping less peacefully until the new one is installed on Saturday.
We’ve been intermittently staying at home in the cold, staying at mom’s in the warmth, and thankfully, the furnace is working just enough tonight for us to stay home comfortably. I expect it to go out again tomorrow, as that seems to be its pattern. At least the cats are happy to have us home. But the turmoil hasn’t been good for Dot, and now she’s feeling ill. I hope it’s not the flu. She has so much on her plate, that’s the last thing she needs.
And a Momma never stops worrying about her babies, no matter how old they are. My mom and I are evidence enough of that!
I’m waiting to exhale when the Cookbook Project is finished. I don’t understand how I could believe in something so completely and not be successful at it. But that glimmer teases me. It’s not over yet. One more week. I have one more week. And, as the last week has evidenced, anything can happen. Even the unexpected. Be it good or bad. I believe it will be Good. But getting there is terribly stressful.
Mostly, tonight, I can’t shake the feeling of sadness over one small thing:
I never hugged Grandpa Jack.
He’s not my Grandpa. He’s the father-in-law of my dear friend. She’s been a motherly-mentor to me for nearly two decades. We were at their house for Thanksgiving, and the whole family was around. And when it came time to leave, I was selective in my affections. And I awkwardly never hugged him. Because after knowing the man for 18 years, I still didn’t know him. And I was embarrassed by my shyness. So we left. It was the best time we’d ever had together at the Great Turkey Shoot. I told myself I’d hug him at Christmas.
But I didn’t see him again.
And now he’s gone.
I never hugged Grandpa Jack. And that horrible thought haunts me. Because now I never will.
I don’t know what to do with all this pain… except sleep on it and know that tomorrow I’ll wake a bit more refreshed. A bit more warm. A bit more optimistic.
Because Shell let me get it out of my system. Sometimes, all we need is a friend to say, “How are you, really?” and mean it. Even if it’s just on a Blog.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote.
Help me to reach my funding goal before February 1st!
Just click on the photo below and click “BACK THIS PROJECT” to pre-order YOUR copy of The Unemployment Cookbook, Second Edition!
Dec 28, 2012 |
It’s the last Friday of the month, and the year.
I’ve had my Resolutions in place for over a week now.
A writing schedule. A work schedule. A home schedule.
A food budget. A recipe budget. A home budget. An emergency budget.
I have a plan. I plan… to plan.
Since July, 2011 I sort of flew by the seat of my pants. Until I started working again.
Without child support and only 35 hours a week, my income isn’t that great. But it’s mine. And I’m doing the best I can.
I have never wanted to go on Welfare. I’m frustrated with the stigma that causes. I understand the system isn’t perfect, but nothing ever is. I don’t like the perception that “everyone” on welfare is lazy or taking advantage of others. There is no shame in finding help when it’s vital to existence. But I refuse to burden society with my debts. I’ve always managed to pay my bills… late, past due, those fees add up. But at least I’m the one paying them. And someday soon, it will get better.
We’re going to tighten the belt even more around here. Now that the holiday specials are over, I’m suspending my TV subscription for a few months. That money will go toward paying off the smallest bill in January. So in February, I can take the TV money and the smallest bill money, and put that toward the next smallest bill. After another month, that’s two bills paid off.
If the Fiscal Cliff isn’t as horrid as we’re being scared into thinking, my tax refund should help pay off a few more small debts.
My goal, God willing and the Creek Don’t Rise, is to be nearly debt-free by the end of 2013. The only remaining debts should by my mortgage, car, and student loans.
That’s the plan.
I don’t know how realistic it is. If anything changes, I don’t know how I’ll handle it.
I received four books for Christmas. Dot gave me a wonderful edition of JRR Tolkien’s The Hobbit. It includes maps, has a leather cover, and is pocket size. It’s perfect! The other three are from my brother. Three books on better blogging. There aren’t enough hours in the day for me to read! (Another reason the TV won’t be missed.)
I’m making a menu plan for January. That’s a separate post. I was gifted with a $100 gift card for Christmas, and I intend to use it strictly for my food budget. I want to see how long it will last if I plan ahead. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and a few snacks. I’m choosing foods that will go a long way: one box of Malt-o-Meal is two weeks’ breakfast for us. My Slow Cooker Ratatouille will feed us for days as a hot dish, pizza topping, and in my Baked Frittata.
I’m going to cut out fast food eating, too. That means no Starbucks in January, and I can’t begin to tell you how I feel about that. I’m only six drinks shy of keeping my Gold Card Status, too. Well, my tastebuds won’t thank me, but my wallet will!
And then there’s the writing. Oh, the writing! Recipes. Dragons. And everything in between. I miss posting daily links at BlogHer’s NaBloPoMo, but I don’t miss my trite, nonsensical postings. With the Cookbook Campaign, the Series with Megan, the Study on the Ten Commandments, and a few other starter projects, my writing plate is overflowing with goodies!
And today is Friday. The last Friday of the month and year. But really… it’s just the Beginning.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
