The Chariot.

The Chariot is saying “go out and celebrate those successes”

OK.

The thing with life is, you sometimes fail to realise you have been successful until somebody points it out to you.  In my life I have always done it tough.  I am not expecting pity here, so don’t think for one minute I am, but when you just get on with it and hurl the obstacles out of the way as you go it sometimes isn’t as obvious to you that you have succeeded.

When I read the brief on today’s writing challenge I had a specific success in mind to write about, but then I decided not to single that out and instead, concentrate on every success I have ever had.  I sat and pondered areas of my life, events, and so on that had been successful and thought, hell yeah, I’ve really achieved something here.

I will quickly refer back to THAT event in 1987 that almost broke me.  I never thought I could be this happy.  I never thought I could feel so good about myself.  I never thought I would succeed at anything.  But looking back has made me realise just what a successful person I am.  Everything I have achieved has been because I have had that gritty determination and desire to keep moving forward.  I have that winner’s mentality – I actually only realised I had that as I wrote this post! – that never allows me to give in, that drives me forward, keeping one eye on the goal and one on each obstacle that arises.

The Chariot has made me realise that I AM A WINNER!  I AM A SUCCESS!

I celebrate those successes each day and marvel at all I have achieved.

The Lovers

Day 7 of the Writing Challenge is all about The Lovers.

I feel like love should be my middle name.  I love everything about love.  The hearts and flowers stage, the stars in their eyes stage, even the darker side of love, the side that drives us to do crazy, insane things.  When I first saw that this day’s card was the Lovers I thought I would just write about my Mr. Wonderful.  But then I realised I had to share that with the world and I just couldn’t let everyone into our private universe.  It isn’t that there is anything wrong with us, we are solid, amazing, crazy-in-love, but to talk about us to everyone who cares to read this blog post just feels wrong.  What we have is sacred and I need to keep that between us.

So I have gone back over the brief – Write about your passions.  In particular, write about the passions that push your heart in directions you’re not brave enough (yet) to explore.

The above statement had me pondering awhile.  Life has pushed and pulled me in so many directions, plenty where I would never have chosen to go.  I have written about it all, in my private journal.  I have peered into the depths of my soul and been met by pain  and suffering, joy and pleasure.  In a sense I have been almost everywhere when it comes to writing – which is my passion.  I have blogged about the five deaths that ripped my family apart from December 2010 to April 2012.  I have touched upon the agony my family went through when my husband got sick.  I have scratched the surface on the major crime that robbed me of my original self.  I blogged incessantly when my daughter was bullied and have blogged about my eldest daughter’s mental health issues.  I have blogged about home educating my son.

I have blogged about almost every aspect of my life.  I have written so many things, both on my blog and as manuscripts that I have almost nothing left in my life to write about.  My passion for writing has seen me air my point of view on different platforms, use my experiences in different writing mediums and use some of the material for novel ideas.  But there is one part of my life I have never spoken about.  I have written about it, it is mostly a complete piece of work that with a bit of polish could, in theory, be sent off to a publisher.  I guess for me this is the direction I am not brave enough to explore.  OK, technically I have explored it, but I am not brave enough to let it go out into the world.  I don’t mind admitting I am terrified of what will happen if this is accepted by a publisher.  It isn’t just my family who would be affected by it, there is another person who is a central character and their family would also be as affected as my family.

Part of me wants to send the manuscript off, I feel this is a story that is ready to be told.  But part of me knows that once it is out there, if it is accepted, then what happens next is out of my control.  Could I hurt my family like that?  Could I hurt his family like that?

I have changed names, naturally, and other aspects to make it less real, but anyone who knows either of us would know it is about us and that is what has stopped me from pressing ahead with this.  Most days I know I will never send it to a publisher, but occasionally  voice inside of me whispers “let it go, it will be OK”.  The truth is, I don’t trust that inner whispering.

Writing is my passion.  Writing soothes my soul, unburdens me, helps me to understand chaotic emotions and events in my life.  Writing can set me free.  But very occasionally, writing can make me feel like a prisoner desperate to escape, but afraid of getting caught.