A Decade; The Same but Different

 

Yall, I started this blog in March of 2013, at that time I was sippin' on a Mountain Dew and reading a devotional on being fearless. Today in December of 2023, I'm sippin' on coffee, and still in my devotionals. What's transpired since then? Nothing and EVERYTHING. Clearly, in some sense I'm still the same but I'm also different. I wouldn't dare drink a Mountain Dew, actually do they still sell those?? Anyway, I'm 10 years older, big 36 baby! Transitions have happened every year. I've taken on new responsibilities, new idenities, merged my life with someone else, brought new life into the world, seen life leave as well. Started hobbies and businesses, gotten degree'd and certificates. Traveled, danced, laughed, cried. A decade of lessons, and all I have here are a few post, 12 to be exact. Moments when I don't know why I came to this space to release but I did. True to form here I am again. See what I mean? Im the same but different. Actually, am I that different? 

I've been asking God who am I? What's my purpose? Why am I here? Why...am...I... The typically questions we fall back on when life seems off track. Well, the typical questions I fall on when I've lost control. Ugh lost, there we go again. The shedding (if you read yesterdays post). But back to today... Let me make it clear, I know that I have a need to control. My friends have said I'm a "radio controller", I'll get in your car in the passenger seat and change the radio. First time in your house, I'm in your fridge getting my own drink. 'Cause yall know I like to sip. I'm not super clear on where this need came from. Maybe I've felt someone else was always in control, of my life, my decisions, my direction, so when I can, I take over. Full overhaul. Its toxic. But I know that's part of who I am. A part that needs shedding. 

I also know I'm supposed to write. I keep getting an urge to write. I'd be driving and get a random thought that's like: just write. I know I'm a writer. And I'm not on no I want to write books and make money or whatever (I also have ZERO desire to be a starving artist) but I know I'm purposed to write. I don't why this was gifted to me. I'd actully prefer to sing, play the violin or be a math savant. Maybe it wasn't gifted to me but words flow from me like Niagara Falls. And in my quiet moments, dark times, I just hear... write. 

I DO know why I DON'T write. I'm wordy. Lofty. So not loquacious but I'm long winded when my pen hits paper. I love a good word play, appreciate redefining words to fit my logic. I like to pick rhetoric apart and understand the power of speech, the command of language. Ahhhh and the real kicker is that I'm scared. 10 years after reading about being fearless, I'm still scared to write. Caught up in the fact that my writing isn't always grammatically correct, perspicuous, flowy or consistent. I ramble. Scared to expose my private thoughts on a public platform. Scared to be judged. "Why is she teaching composition?" "How'd she graduate with an English degree?". 'Cause that's what I do. Compare, judge, wonder why I'm not that good, how'd others become so concise, clear, and witty. But here I am, with way too many commas, and ands, and parentheses. In fear, but also in knowing this is what I should do today. Write.... 

Welp, until the next random push to spill my inner most thoughts 

-Writer in Training