Once upon a time I had this dream that I was building a sanctuary somewhere in the middle of the woods. I spent a great deal of time building this sanctuary, there were four giant square pillars of wood that I wrapped in bright shiny material to represent the four corners; Earth Air Fire and Water.
In the center I built a fire pit to represent fire, and around the fire pit a small moat that I filled with water from the forest spring, to represent water. I burned incense to represent air, and dirt from outside the moat to represent earth, and I added pillows to make it comfortable and “homey.”
Within minutes of finishing my outdoor sanctuary, a pack of wolves appeared and destroyed everything that I had built. I didn’t understand what that dream was about until now.
I wake up every single day grateful that I made it through another night without anyone trying to get revenge on me for speaking out.
I wake up every day in absolute shock that someone hadn’t broken into my house during the night and tried to kill me – because that is my absolute greatest fear. Before I go to bed I ensure I have my phone somewhere near by and I force myself to practice in my mind, dialing nine one one so I can be prepared if I need to be.
Other times I imagine having to type a message into Tweet Deck in case I am at my computer when they come for me. My Doctor says this is part of the psychosis, the paranoia, but you don’t survive what I’ve survived without making a few enemies along the way. You just don’t. Name one hero of any story that made it out alive without pissing someone off.
Go on, I’ll wait.
That’s what I thought.
I sometimes think that what I am doing with Loud Mouth isn’t really that important, and I have to remind myself that it’s important to me, so it might e important to others, but I feel like I am sitting here trying to build this sanctuary just waiting for the wolves to show up and destroy it and that scares me.
I am putting in the foundation of my future, I keep saying that, but because I can’t quite see what the future holds I am nervous about anyone coming in and ruining that delicate balance that I am starting to find.
I think that’s why I sent everyone away, I think that’s why I needed this time alone, because I was so tired of living for everyone else, I was so tired of existing so I didn’t hurt anyone, that I ended up hurting everyone anyways. In realizing that I am not perfect, I realize I need time to digest just what I am, which is someone who is learning to be better.
That learning is taking a lot of time, and with each new post I am discovering something about myself that I didn’t necessarily know or acknowledge before, but I am still a work in progress.
I never had a plan, except to write. I love what I do, and have from the beginning. Loving what you do makes it a lot easier to work, every day, to face the tough spots and heel in for the long haul. Nothing against plans; they work for some people. But for me, if I’d been planning.
Worrying about numbers, trying to micro-manage my career, I wouldn’t have focused on the writing. If you don’t write, you’re not read. If you’re not read, you don’t sell. So that’s my Master Plan, I guess. Write the books, let the agent agent, the editor edit, the publisher publish.