In the past two months I've started so many new projects and have so many new goals to strive for that it hardly seems possible that I find myself wanting to add another one. Yet here I sit, ready to set down another challenge for myself. Here goes.
Starting New Years Day I decided that NOW was the time to make changes and do everything I needed to do to make the biggest change in my entire life finally happen. So on January 2nd I printed up all the paperwork and began putting all the ducks in a row in order to get licensed in Florida for massage therapy. My part in that just ended yesterday, and it's a pretty big weight off my shoulders. I also joined a gym in January and gave myself the goal of losing 40-50 pounds by the time I leave for Florida, probably in June or July (or August or September). I hired a personal trainer to give me a jump start and am now on a regular weight loss regimen. So far I have lost 8 pounds, and I have good days and bad days. I will never be one of those people to whom weight loss comes easy, and since I've always had a love affair with food, this past month and a half have been challenging in many ways. It was also made plain to me recently that someone who I had believed I may have had a chance with for several years would never be more than a friend to me.
So that brings us to now. Here I am, hungry for the desserts I will eternally crave, sore in places I previously hadn't used in years, still a little heartbroken over having lost someone I now realize was a symbol of hope for an eventual love-life, and one step closer to being ready to leave behind everything and everyone I know and hold dear in hopes of starting myself over and finding a place in this crazy, harsh, beautiful world.
So what is this next new challenge that I thrust upon myself now?
I have been employed as a massage therapist now for 14 months. In the beginning it was enjoyable, since it was new and my brain loves learning the nuances of getting something just right through practice and experience. Now, however, I can do it by heart and without much thought. That does not usually bode well for my brain. The brain that would drift off after 3 minutes in math class, the brain that would rebel at boring television and instead create basement obstacle courses (which often led to parental shin injuries) (Ooo, good band name!). The act of massaging itself is not boring, but being alone with your thoughts in the dark for an hour many times a day can get to feel like solitary confinement. I don't dislike my job. I am very lucky to be employed by the best boss I could hope for and be surrounded by coworkers that make it fun to be there. But the physical work of massage is very hard on my body, and not at all demanding of my brain. For me, I have learned, that is a very bad combination. I don't mind hard work as long as my mind is occupied. When I decided to go to massage school it was not out of a love for "healing" people or a wish to help my fellow man. It was a way to make money after realizing that film was not going to work for me. I never thought for a moment that it would become my life's new passion. And it hasn't. But lately I've been thinking more and more about the one passion I always ignored, I always pushed to the back of my mind for one reason or another, and that I could see myself enjoying for years to come if I could just get over that often paralyzing fear that I won't be any good.
Writing.
I know that's easy to say, when it's taken me two months to punch out a blog entry. But sometimes life gets in your way or you end up lying to yourself or pushing something to the side because of fears or doubts. And sometimes life decides that the time is right for something and won't let you think about anything else until you give in and listen to what your heart is telling you. This is what my heart is telling me: I could be a damn good writer if I worked at it and stopped being afraid of failure so god-damned much. So will I drop everything, develop a drinking problem, start smoking and decide I'm the next Hemingway? No, that's not my style (and I'm not that dramatic).
I recently had a friend give me a numerology reading (if that's the correct term for whatever she did). I usually take those kinds of things with a grain of salt (which is interestingly one of the things she told me about myself), but some of what she revealed was frighteningly accurate. So then where does that leave me but to take the other things she said slightly more seriously? One of which was that whatever year I'm now in personally is a year of preparing for a big change, and that next year will be one of big changes. (These years are going by my birthdate in August, not calendar years). So I figure that if that's true; if this is a year of bettering myself in preparation for a complete new beginning, then why not learn all I can (along with the weight loss, gym, paperwork, traveling to look at apartments, interviews, packing, and everything else I've decided to delve into this year) about becoming a professional writer. I don't expect to have a book published by next year, but I can start improving myself every day, little by little.
This is a scary thing to do, but I'm making a PROMISE (and those are scary to break) to post at least once a week on this blog. Sometimes it will be writing exercises that don't make any sense, sometimes it will be rambling posts about whatever I feel like talking about out of the blue (ahem, too you long enough, thank you). But I will write and I will post. I make that promise to all two of you readers out there (I can't imagine there being any more), and if I break it, you have permission and I encourage you to berate me and call me a liar and throw things at me if you can find me.
Starting today I stop wondering what could have been, I stop wallowing in self doubt (well for today anyway), I try my best not to focus on the things I don't have and start focusing on the things that I can do for myself while I'm young, alive, and free. Because I may not have anyone to come home to, I may not be a sparkling socialite, or be able to comfortably make eye contact with attractive strangers, but dammit I can WRITE like nobody's business. And that's something that I DO have.
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