Ramble ramble

As some people may  have noticed (or perhaps not, that's totally fine), I took a small hiatus from writing in the last few weeks. That's because, a few weeks ago, I realized that I was constantly feeling stressed. I felt unsatisfied and frustrated and unfulfilled, and then one day I stopped and asked myself, WHY the HELL am I feeling like this?? I have a fucking awesome life! I live in Portland (The best city EVER, no matter what you think, Dad!) with amazing friends, and I have an awesome job and boss and co-worker, and I work downtown and I get to go out with friends and my little brother and family lives only a couple hours away, and my MOM lives in HAWAII, so, you know, free vacations!

And then I realized, the reason I was feeling stressed was because I felt that I needed to figure out how to become a writer RIGHT NOW. I was always trying to think of what to write and how to write it and how do I get it published? And should I take a class? Is that story good enough? And then I read something about blogs, and how you are supposed to write in them EVERY DAY. Are you kidding me?? Who has so much to say that they can write a blog that often? WHO EVEN CARES?! If I wrote a blog every day, I would run out of things to say. Like yesterday. I went to work, and I got a cappuccino for a treat. I went grocery shopping. We bought pears AND apples, because we were feeling adventurous. We made home-made micheladas, because they are the blood of a Mexican angel. A slightly crazy looking black man who was trying to sell me something while I was waiting at the bus stop told me I was beautiful and asked me for my name, to which I mumbled something, and he said, "Ahh, Sheri! You are a heart-breaker," and I thought, Sheri? I didn't say Sheri, but that's my moms name, HOW DID HE KNOW?!

But the point is, I was stressed out about a goal I had set for MYSELF. Meaning that I was creating my own stress! And when I figured that out, my mind was blown, because what right do I have to make myself feel like that? That is for the OUTSIDE world to do, the world I can't control. Reacting to stressful situations is one thing. Creating my OWN stress is ridiculous. Inside is where MY power is, and I am usually very calm and content, and feeling so powerless was new and unwelcome. So I kicked it out.

I also realized that my goal was not well thought out and also unspecific: "Get something published" is a terrible goal. So I did what I had to do. I let it go. I decided to just STOP IT. I decided to take a break from writing altogether. It used to be something that I liked to do, that made me feel fulfilled and valuable, but at that time it was bumming me out.

And lately I've realized that I miss it. I like storytelling. I like connecting to people in this way. I don't know if anyone hears me, but I like to think they do. I like to believe that people think I'm entertaining or at least interesting... perhaps not in a post such as this where I am rambling on without end, but generally.

So I'm going to stop putting so much stress on myself and just enjoy writing, and enjoy where I'm at right now. Because my life is AWESOME. Creating my own stress once was enough, and it was easy enough to move past once I realized what the hell was going on. I wanted to write so badly that I thought about it too much and messed it all up. I spoke to a psychic once and she said, "You over-analyze things way too much. Stop thinking about it, and just WRITE." Yes ma'am.