Is there a reason why we are born the way we are? I've struggled with my own shortcomings, chaotic memory, attention issues, and the person I am verses the person I want to be so badly for years. I hear people tell me I'm a hard worker, that I'm organized, that I'm talented. Yet every day I look in the mirror and I see someone who fails everything, who gives up before the finish line, who checks out when things get hard. I see someone who can't keep their personal space clear, much less their mind. Someone who forgets their coffee in the Keurig in the morning, and forgets to eat, and can't remember if she took her vitamins today. I need check lists to function, I can't get a decent night's sleep for the life of me, and I lose everything. I see someone who has probably a quarter of the things she needs to be a functioning human being and only has about half of those in her bag at any one time.
But the thing about life is, you cannot help the cards you're delt. You can't change the person you were. Only who you are. I make choices every day and blame my pasts, my experiences, the cards life delt me. Then, later I realize, I had a moment to be different, but I wasn't.
Perhaps it's a form of imposter syndrome for me. I see how talented others are, how put together they are, how in control of their lives they are, and I want that. Yet I'm never able to achieve it.
It's important to remember in this day and age of technology that we aren't AI, we aren't computers, and that we aren't who we put out on social media. No one is 100% real on platforms. Life has layers. No one is perfect and the chasing of perfection only leads to unhappiness.
Yet I chase it every day.
This last month, this last year really, I've been struggling with an introspection I wish was deep enough to be profound, but honestly, I'm too scatter-brained to pay that much attention to it. But I've been looking at myself, at the person I am. Not just at my personality, at the anger, and resentment, the anxiety, the worry, the lack of focus, and all those other things that make me up, but also at the things I've done with my life. If I'm happy with the life I've led. While there are some choices I absolutely would never change because they are the best things to ever happen to me, there are parts of me that I want to change.
I'm sure everyone has regrets. Things they wish they had done differently. For me, the list is a mile long. But we cannot change the past. I can't go back. I can, however, go forward with a sense of purpose. A decision to change things, every day, at least in a small way to push myself towards the person I want to be.
Don't get me wrong, I don't hate the person I am. I'm simply dissatisfied because I know I could be better.
Fear leads us to choices that are 'safe'.
Fear of failure. Fear of ridicule. Fear of the future.
We cannot let fear rule our lives the same as we cannot let our situations rule us.
So, for myself, this is one of those small steps towards being better. Consistency, finishing things I know I can finish. Sticking to things I know I should. I truly believe in my work, my story telling, and one of the only ways to help that shine is to put myself out into the big wide world. And maybe there are better ways to do that, but I can't think of them, and I don't like being disingenuous so a lot of the 'how to' ways I find on the internet won't work for me.
For now, I'll just have to do what I can, what I can think of, and try.
Anyway, enough rambling.
Hollows
Hollows is two weeks and some change away from releasing! There is a lot left to do, and I really need to focus on that. I can see the finish line for it!
Will I have enough time to get everything together? I don't know, maybe Hollows will release late, maybe I'll have it all done early. This is my first book, and I don't want to rush it. Whatever happens, this is a learning experience for me, and I keep having to tell myself that whatever goes wrong 'it will be smoother for the next one'.
In the meantime, please enjoy this excerpt from the first page!
There was a bright yellow flier on my shopfront when I shuffled downstairs to open for the day. I was only halfway through my first cup of coffee, and not in the mood for someone using my window to sell their guitar again. I’d pulled my inky, more-frizz-than-curl hair into a loose braid, yet stray strands still wrestled their way free when I popped the door open. It was chilly out; the crisp scent of October leaves permeated the wind as it swam into the shop and nipped around my layered skirt. I tugged the paper off of the window and examined it. Four Missing, Seeking Volunteers for Search Party sat at the top of the flier in big bold letters. It was a photocopy of the front page of the Hollows Messenger and sported black and white images of some handsome college-age men who — according to the text — had gone missing in the wilds between Hollows and Moosehead Lake earlier in the week while camping. They weren’t the first, doubtful they’d be the last. - Hollows, by Elizabeth King
Despite the heavy topic of this post, I hope it finds you well!
Until tomorrow!
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