Mountains
There must’ve been something in the water today. Or, maybe, it was the rain returning after last week’s Old Testament storms. Something was out there and it wasn’t good or nice or positive. All the writer’s I spoke with today were feeling it and then some. Everyone. Even me.
That’s okay, though. It happens. Just another part of the package. Not one that I like to witness in my extremely talented, dear, dear friends; or wrestle with inside my heart as I try to get work done in the wee hours of the morning.
What’s it all about? Where does this huge fountain of anxiety spring from? Always one thing when you strip it all down. Will I make it? That’s a loaded, ambiguous question to ask oneself, mind you. One that won’t do you any good. But, we ask it of ourselves. We all do in some way. Inevitably that question takes on all these guises, nibbling at your confidence with piranha intensity.
Bottom line?
Somedays you feel like this:
And other days, more like this:
That’s not going to change. Comes with the territory when you’re chasing your dreams. The trick is to shift your heart and mind to the process, not the product. Did I write well today? Did I get some good work done?
The sooner you accept that – even if you lose sight of it from time to time – and make that switch the better off you’ll be. No matter how tentative that switch is at first. At least that’s what I believe. That’s where my faith is rooted.
I’ll leave you with this – a close friend said it today in response to this struggle:
We climb this mountain because we love to climb mountains, after all.
Can’t argue with the God’s honest truth. Best get back to work. Sure beats bartending.