Today, I’m itching to write.
I have pressure building in my forehead. Creativity squeezing to be unleashed.
I have a million ideas schlepping at me to tie them up and pin them down. Forget easy as ABC, this is easy as S&M. Start then Mold. Get the words on the page and then give them a metaphorical makeover. Treat them like VIPs. Feed them the most-succulent, strawberry adjectives and slosh them with champagne grammar. Spit out the green tops. Savor the pink-fleshy verbs.
Writing is my art. Words are my paint. This blog is my canvas.
I want to gather up my experiences and share them here with you. Siphon meaning from the leg-less man on a Nha Trang street corner. Weave a parable about THOSE gold shoes. Tell you about Tuscan fireworks shooting into cathedral skies. Regale you with loves lost and found. And Michael Singer. Commemorate my grandfather, performing obligatory finger exercises in a home filled with mad old women, with trousers two sizes too big and a wife who can never spend the night.
I want to scrape them out of me like baked spaghetti squash.
It doesn’t always happen like this. Sometimes my posts are birthed in a painless hour to jubilant, shake-your-pom-poms acclaim. Other times, they’re works of excruciating labor massaged with meditation and sweet love.
And writing, for me, is like the tides. The sea sucks and pulls at sand crabs and Self-Doubt hauls me in, leaving my muse on the shore. Hours (sometimes days) later, the ocean gives me back to the land, word-waves gushing over me and shells of inspiration in my pockets.
(Did I mention I’m a water sign? I digress.)
So, the question is, What lights your soul fire?
What’s your mango passion?
What wakes you up with a jolt at 3AM?
What feels like your sacred birthright?
What encapsulates you?
Because once you have that, my darling, you have the key to EVERYthing.
That’s your red firefall. Your solar eclipse. Your kismet.
When ardor fuels your biznez, your ROI will skyrocket into the cosmos.
When obsession feeds your enterprise, your clients will start finding YOU.
Simples, n’est pas?
Photo credit ^risa^. Flickr.