I’ve been asking for abundance to come into my life for a while now. The daily mantra has changed and morphed over the months but the premise remains the same. One of the additions to the mantra has been to ask for an abundance of writing. It’s funny how things don’t turn out exactly as planned but how they still turn out.
Originally I thought that my writing would take place here on this blog or in the form of a book that I’m supposed to be writing but that has not been the case. I am still writing here and one of these days I’ll take a stab at the book again but for now my abundance of writing is happening at work.
At work I’m writing. I’m writing blog posts and success stories and today I started writing my first brochure. I’ve been in marketing for years but have never written a brochure before. I was kind of wary about it at first but once I got some words on paper it got easier and by the end I thought it was pretty good.
As my workday came to a close I realized that I was proud of my writing and… I was happy. Happy to have created something. Happy to have a physical existence of my work. Happy to have something to show for my effort. And happy that I had written content that I was pleased with.
Not all of my writing makes me happy. Wait, that’s not exactly right. My writing makes me happy but I’m not always happy about people’s reactions to my writing. For example, we had Open Mic night at my writing course tonight and I put my hand up to read. I had decided to read my poem that I had written 10 years ago. I know it is a heavy piece but I always felt that it was good because it evoked emotions. Not all poetry is about trees and butterflies, sometimes it is about pain and suffering.
After the heart-pounding effort that it took to read my poem I was a little disappointed by the response. Or should I say lack of response. I did get a few people who commented but mostly I heard crickets chirping and I wasn’t even outside. The group follows the old adage that if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all. Based on the limited feedback, I guess people didn’t like it.
I wish that I didn’t care what others thought. I wish that I only cared what I thought about my writing. Why do we seek approval when really we should just revel in our personal triumph of getting the words onto paper? Why should we want the accolades when expressing our thoughts and dreams, since no matter what they are, the expression is a form of success all by itself?
One day I hope to be that person who writes and doesn’t care what others think. Some days I am better at it than others.
For now, I will continue to write and I will continue to try to find the joy in the act of writing itself. I think that the group of people who care about my writing is small but they do exist. And even if the group turns out to be a party of one, I hope that I can still be happy and proud that I did the work, wrote my thoughts down and created a physical representation of the ideas tumbling around inside my brain.