I have forever been looking “out there” for what was within me the entire time.
Until this morning I believed I was completely and fully past the brainwashing my mother did to me about not being a writer. I thought I “won” because I am writing and actually letting people read it.
I have been writing since the age of four (I learned to read at age two) but whenever my mother would catch me writing, she would confiscate the papers and throw them away along with the admonishment that writers are losers and I would “never be a writer!”
I am doing what I love but not making any money and this morning I took a serious look that. It felt like I have been simply chasing moonbeams, falling stars and rainbows looking for something but not knowing what. I just kept writing. This morning – before dawn – one of those moonbeams struck me upside the head with another memory. It is not a new memory but words which were always attached to the end of her oft repeated sentence: “Writers are losers.”
Of course I am not making any money. Of course my work does not sell. I actually sell a few of my first published book most months, but not enough to earn a living. I want to earn a living doing what I love. It never occurred to me until this day, that I still had unfinished business with my mother’s attempts to “save” me. I have been “secretly” blaming others even though I know I create my own life.
Years ago I realized my mother was only trying to protect me because of her own experience. Her father was a writer and never made enough money to even feed his family and divorced my grandmother when my mother was two. She saw that I was “just like my grandfather” and that scared her. She was willing to go to any lengths to keep me from writing and the subsequent misery and failure.
Because I have been actively writing, I honestly believed I was over it. However, the part about her father never making any money I apparently did not deal with and it has remained in my subconscious.
It has been gnawing away at my gray matter without my realizing it. Wow. I actually did become exactly like my grandfather – writing for free.
Today I will begin affirmations about my writings and will swiftly proceed on completion of my memoir. It is funny because it is near completion but I hit a wall. No wonder. Somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind has been the constant thought about what I would do if I actually did succeed at writing. What would I do if I actually made enough money from my writing to support myself? Then my mother would be wrong and that would be a “no-no.” We are not supposed to make our parents be wrong.
Our subconscious controls our thoughts and actions. The lies that hide in “The Attic” of our minds (Changeless Change, p. 37) drive us to prove to “them” (mostly parents) they were right. Regardless, of our feelings toward our parents, we want to please them by making them right.
As a result, I have lived all these years lost in the adventure of chasing what might be, what could be, if only I could catch a moonbeam or a falling star.
I release all fear of being successful and/or making money with my passion, writing. I am free to be me.