I don't like the fact that I don't have time to write anymore. It's really starting to grate on my spirit.
Some things you just know in your heart that you're meant to do. You don't feel complete when you're not doing them. When you're not doing the things you were created to do, your world feels bleak and hopeless.
That's how I feel when I don't write… like my world is listless and that my life is becoming a pointless vacuum, just sucking up precious time and throwing it out with the rest of the dust.
How depressing. But, that's how I get when I don't write.
I've been in a funk all this week, and I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Scott & I were joking last night that I was going through a quarter-century crisis. While there probably is some truth to that, it's not so much that I'm becoming imminently aware of my own mortality. It's that I'm wasting what time I have with things that aren't important.
I'm slaving away at the office in Sales. How I ever ended up in sales, I'll never know. I guess it's because I'm really good at talking out of my ass. I'm good with words, and that helps me sell things.
But, it's not what I'm meant to do. I know that in my heart, but for the time being it's where I'm stuck. I have to make a living, and unfortunately this is what I have to do. It's draining, consistently disappointing, and requires a huge amount of up-front work in order to build any sort of client base and steady income.
I hate sales. I've come to this conclusion in the past few weeks. But, it's the only way I'm going to get ahead and be able to bring home a decent living. I'm not a doctor, and I'm not a lawyer, so I have to be a business woman.
But, my heart is sad. It's sad because I'm not doing what I'm meant to do. I don't want to waste my life selling things that don't matter. When people get so worked up around here about "bottom-line" and "meeting quarterly quotas", it just depresses and angers me. I just think about places like Sierra Leone, Rwanda, Darfur, Nazi Germany, Myanmar, and I am overwhelmed with the stupidity and borderline insulting pointlessness of all this stress and anxiety.
No one is going to die from not getting product in time. There aren't going to be any genocides due to Best Buy or Circuit City not getting their big orders in. We're not going to have an apocalyptic meltdown of our society because the reps didn't make their commission this month.
No, I can't be that person. I can't live my life being concerned about how much I'm selling, or what deal is coming in. I have to be during the hours of 8-5, M-F, but I can't be that person in my heart.
Last night, I wrote in my novel for the first time in 2 years. It felt… well, for a writer, I sure am coming up short on ways to describe it. I guess the best way to describe it was it felt like my heart was a POW stepping free onto home soil for the first time in years.
That's what it felt like – home. It felt right. It felt like I was actually doing something worth doing, as opposed to throwing precious time out, like tossing jewels out in the streets with the rest of the rubbish.
The Austin/Round Rock/Dell blog will be coming next week. I just felt that this was something I needed to put in writing, in case I ever forget again.
It's so easy to get swallowed alive by the things that don't matter. Negative energy/evil/Satan whatever name you give the negative of the world, has a way of consuming us with the inconsequential. It keeps us from the things that truly matter by throwing smokescreens of situations and issues that really don't matter in the long run. It kills us slowly from the inside out by keeping us from truly reaching our potential and what we are created to do and to be.
I know I need to refocus on what matters. God is good, and this isn't the first time He's rescued me from myself. I'd have given up a long time ago if it wasn't for Him. He's an awesome guy – you should try meeting him sometime, if you haven't gotten a chance to, yet…
Cheers,
E
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