I’m finding that I am resisting my productivity.
At least I am today. I don’t want to open up the files for my novel. I don’t want to wash the dishes. I don’t want to sort through the piles of clothes waiting in the bedroom. I don’t want to turn off the tv and MAKE myself face the things I have to do.
I know if I sat down and tried to get my brain working again, it would start to work. The ideas would begin to flow and thoughts would trickle back and logic would click into place.
Instead, I find myself digging my heels into the ground and hanging onto the towel bar, screaming, “I won’t grow up!”
Of course, not literally. But this is what I am realizing is going on. I’m not “too tired,” or “too busy” or “too sick,” or even “too lazy.” I am afraid and do not want to take responsibility for my own life.
Why? Why not? Why not take chances and step on out into the real world? Why not try to make my wishes a reality? Why not DO instead of daydream????
Ay dios!
Is it really that hard to take control of life, instead of waiting for it to happen to me?
I’ll get back to you on the answer to that.
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