On Being

It’s been a struggle-filled sort of month where I want to be so many things, but I just can’t get out of bed or off the couch or out of the fridge. I’m a lazy bum more days than not, and I can’t figure out how to motivate myself.

And then I finally bothered my husband about it, and we talked while I cried for hours in the middle of the night. In the end, my darling helped me realize that I need to spend time with myself and a piece of paper to figure out what the heck I want to be.

Because being something in the future means being something now. Like right now. Today. This moment, being me, sitting criss cross on my bedspread, my jean shorts tight against my tummy, the fan screaming on the windowsill, my helpless hair hanging in my face and around my shoulders.

Whoever I am right now is who I will be in three seconds and six seconds and two thousand eight hundred seventy nine seconds unless I act.

So here’s my action and my promise to myself and to Brad and to anyone else who might care:

I hereby swear myself to a diet of daily writing and daily reading. Through this diet I will exercise and nourish my brain like I exercise and nourish my body.

Starting with a short goal of one month, I’ll spend an hour or five minutes with a pen or keyboard. On August 18, I’ll probably add a minimum time or word count, or I’ll begin my outline for Nanowrimo, or something.

Till then, I’ll post my inspiration.



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