I love to write.
That has been clear and simple since I was a kid.
It seems that when I have this sole focus on making a living from it that I run into trouble.
But it's not that there's anything wrong with it.
It's just that when I take my focus away from the labor and put it on the rewards, on the fruits of my labor, then I run into trouble.
I have this pilot I'm writing.
And in my head, I'm thinking with my old brain:
"I need to get this done by this week in order to turn it into this person so that this thing can happen and then…"
But what's the "and then?"
And then I will be rich and famous.
And then everyone will know how great I truly am.
And then what?
I love having goals.
I love having a plan.
There's nothing wrong with that.
But it's when I anticipate a set result that something doesn't sit right.
I have plenty of friends who have this relentless ambition and put in real hard work and do get results.
That approach hasn't worked for me.
You know, the Universe sends you these signs to let you know where you're at.
They are right in front of your face, plain as day.
I just saw a posting from an acquaintance that I worked next to four years ago.
We shared the same office space and this person was an assistant to a show runner.
This person posted a picture of Facebook yesterday and this person is STILL an assistant to a different show runner.
That person has spent the last four years (and some before that, I'm assuming) being an assistant.
I remember that life. I spent a lot longer than that doing the same thing.
But is that person any closer to where she wants to be?
I don't know that. I can't answer that question for her.
But I can answer that question for myself.
That could have been me.
It's like the world's longest audition for a bit part.
It's an entry level gig, this staff writing thing.
And I need to prove to you how great I am at answering the phone?
Some how that qualifies me?
I am great at answering phones.
I am great at organizing people's lives, including my own.
I am great at making people feel at ease.
I am great at all the things that one does when they work for someone else.
But the problem is that I am also an incredible writer.
I have spent the past four years writing.
Not getting paid.
Not being in the mix.
Not being in the vicinity of the writers room.
I have made sacrifies in order to write every day.
To the point that when the writing isn't there that day, it feels awful.
I have been feeling awful for the past month or so.
Oh, who am I kidding?
I have been feeling awful for the past three months.
When I am not writing I feel awful.
I spent seven years feeling awful.
And that doesn't mean writing wasn't happening.
But it wasn't where my heart was.
It wasn't what I was spending most of my time doing.
It wasn't what I was proclaiming to the Universe.
For so long, it seemed that my greatness at being a right hand man was coming into direct conflict with the writer I am.
When you have been away from not being yourself you start to forget what it felt like.
That having "writer's block" or "procrastinating all day" might feel bad.
But losing parts of your soul leaves so much more damage
and you don't even feel it because you are distracted all day
by phone calls,
emails,
funny You Tube links,
your boss' concerns,
your boss' anger,
your boss' life.
There is so much white noise that you don't notice that you're dying inside.
I might not be inspired every day.
But every day I show up.
Every day I appear.
So that the muse knows where to find me.
And if I'm in doubt that the muse even remembers my address,
I pick up my Bible,
THE WAR OF ART,
and I read.
I remember that this is a daily battle.
One bad day
isn't the worse thing in the world.
And I remember that even though it feels like it has been three months
since I have actually done something,
that's not true.
When I had my office over those six months or so,
I had days like this too.
But I also had a space I was paying for where I could
lay on the ground in a fetal position,
or masturbate
or procrastinate.
I had a home to do that in.
And it felt okay because I was in the space to get things done.
You know what,
it's still okay.
Even if I don't go to an office every day.
I still am present to the work.
I can still do it.
I am still doing it.
I haven't missed the mark or gone in the wrong direction.
I just needed to know where the road is
and what the boundaries are.
And sometimes you need to run off the road a bit to remember where the road is.
See?
Writing makes me feel better.
Even if I don't know what I am saying.
I am grateful for fingers that type.
I am grateful for a study room in a library in Pico Rivera.
I am grateful for the sunlight to shine in and remind me that there's a world out there.
I am grateful for my smile.
I am grateful for my patience.
I am grateful for The War of Art.
I am grateful for my new headphones which block out the sound and look nice.
I am grateful for my cell phone.
I am grateful that I get to see two of my favorite men tonight.
I am grateful for a community.
I am grateful for Tuesdays.
I am grateful that I am a writer.
I am grateful that life gets better.
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