Photo courtesy of RozSheffield from Flickr
Have you ever had an unusual and timely answer to a plea or question?
I spent the weekend at a Healing Pathway workshop. During one session, I had to ponder an intention. It didn’t take long for mine to bubble up.
I needed a push to persevere.
Being a writer isn’t easy. Every day I receive feedback from someone about something I’ve done wrong. It could be as simple as a misplaced comma or as a grand as a challenge to my central theme, but no matter how large or how small, every negative comment dents my armour. Most days I’m strong. I accept it as part of the job and use it to better my work. But every once in a while, all those dents blast a hole. When feedback tells me, over and over again, I have failed in some way, or my writing is off target, or “not what we’re looking for,” or just plain “not good enough,” I wonder why I do it.
In my daily life I get paid to write in a corporate environment. I’m not passionate about the subject for which I get well paid. I am passionate about my creative writing, though. My short stories and my blog stir my blood—and garner very little financial compensation for me. Lately, that frustrates me. I’m supposed to follow my bliss, right? All the self-help gurus say when you’re doing what you’re supposed to do, money flows to you. Why the disconnect? What gives?
What. Is. Up. With. That?
I carried my frustration and discouragement into the weekend. Why bother with all this creative writing? Life would be so much easier without it, really. I said to the universe (or God, or whatever you choose to call that mystery we’re all trying to figure out): “What do you have to say to me about perseverance?”
At the end of the day, I climbed into my car, turned the key and the song “Carry On” by Fun. blasted out of my radio.
Let it never be said that the universe doesn’t have a sense of humour.
My favourite line from the song: “May your past be the sound of your feet upon the ground.” What a profound, inspirational blessing. The line fires me up and rekindles my spirit. In ten years, or 20 years, no matter what happens, I hope to look over my shoulder at the past and listen for the sound of my feet upon the ground, step by step, going somewhere, taking action, doing something, trying. Persevering.