Tuesday, July 6, 2010
I am currently reading "Eat, Pray, Love". Yeah, I know. Just a wee bit behind the times. I can relate to the writer on many levels: who among us wouldn't love to travel and write about it? But, perhaps because of where my head is at this moment, perhaps out of sheer jealousy, I find myself very depressed reading this book. This book is making me regret the path my life has taken, making me feel that the decisions I've made have stranded me on the craggy shore of a bleak future. I'm sitting here alone with no one but myself to blame.
Last night, as I closed the book and turned out the light, I told myself that maybe it was time to give up on the writing. I would never be a "real" writer, would never have my book on any sort of best-seller list. As I drifted off to sleep... words and images began to fill my head. Beautifully descriptive prose that spoke to my very soul. I think it may have been the voice of God, telling me to not give up. Not yet. That's what I'm telling myself anyway. I guess I'm not ready to give up after all.