Day 16: It’s All About Me

Now that I taped the last hope in a series of hopes onto my 11x 14 vision board, I am amazed and, quite frankly, in awe of my truly ambitious undertaking. As my eyes slowly scan the kaleidoscope of images that represent my future aspirations, fear starts to envelope my very being, first as a nagging wavelike pulsation in the pit of my stomach, then inching up crossing my chest and finally settling into the muscles of my throat. Shear panic engulfs me. Crazy thoughts infiltrate my brain in warp speed. The thought of living abroad overwhelms me. Do I really believe I have a snow ball’s chance in Hell of being on Super Soul Sunday nevertheless being on the NY Times Bestseller’s list? How stupid!

Suddenly and just as forcibly I heard someone calling me.

“Excuse me; excuse me,” the persistent voice beckoned.

I quickly spun around but no one was there. I heard it again, but this time the voice was becoming more insistent and shrill. I peered over my shoulder trying to take a sneak peek in case someone was pulling a prank. I heard the voice again, but this time, it sounded different. This time it was low and raspy; it sounded guttural.

“What makes you think you won’t have a bestseller? If others can do it why can’t you? The only obstacle to your success is YOU! Should ofs, would ofs and could ofs will be your undoing! STOP IT!!!!

Who’s there? I shouted stopping myself in mid-sentence. I felt totally foolish as I scanned the perimeter but still no one was there.

“I’m totally losing it” I thought.

Now more than ever I was convinced that I needed to go back to bed; obviously I was on overload.
I sank down in my overstuffed chair. This chair is my source of comfort, my port in the storm of doubt, uncertainty, writer’s block or just a soft place to fall. As I pull the soft chenille throw up towards my chin I try to erase any extraneous thoughts from my mind but that doesn’t work. Maybe I should try to meditate.

“OM…………………………….OM………………..It’s not working, OM………. Oh no……Stop thinking those crazy thoughts, I am good enough, I am smart enough, I will succeed, other writers are successful, I can be too! Nothing beats a failure but a try!”

Suddenly, as if stricken by lightning I had an awakening. That voice, that inescapable raspy voice I was so feverishly looking for was me. My vision board is a roadmap to my future; my inner voice is a testament to me.

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