So I’ve been telling myself that I need to enjoy the desert time… need to slow down and not rush toward each potential oasis that I think will relieve my thirst, albeit temporarily.  Nope, the Universe decided that it was going to make sure that I followed through… funny how that happens, you know?

The newest gift from the Universe is Bell’s Palsy.  Yup… you got it.  Facial paralysis is a great way to keep me from running around here and there, my ego being too great to allow myself to spend much time in public looking like Two-Face from the Batman movies.   As much as I am dismayed at the temporary set-back, I guess I have to realize that the Universe is telling me to just slow down and stay close to home for a while.  How will I learn to learn the difference between loneliness and solace if I am too busy flitting about?  So here I am.  No potential dating for 4-6 weeks, no performing, no eating out (since I can only chew on one side and keep biting the inside of my mouth, it’s really not at all attractive), and only shopping for necessities.  Even going to work is a “get in, get out” situation for a while.

So where does that leave me?  Well, once I get over feeling sorry for myself, I can focus on the blessings that my home offers that I haven’t taken as much advantage of as I could have in the recent past.  I have my books, and there are a couple sitting there waiting for me to pick them up.  I have my computer, which I need to use for more than FaceBook and checking email. And I can take the time to cook for myself for a change.

What I really do want to do is write.  Now there are no excuses.  I’m not too busy, I don’t have to be anywhere, and no one is coming over (except for my son to watch football with me).  The mind WANTS to write, but I have to motivate the rest of me.  My novel sits there waiting to be worked on… all I need to do is make myself comfortable, make a pot of tea, a bit of toast (it IS cold and rainy today, so it’s a “tea and toast” day!), and just start typing.  Once I get into it, the story will take over.  Yup… that’s what I need to do.  Open the file… start typing…

Ok, so what’s holding me back now?

I guess it all boils down to fear.  Fear that no one will even like what I write.  Fear that I’ll never even get anyone to read it.  Fear that if they DO read it that the criticism will come.

Did J.K. Rowling feel like this?  How about Poe?  Or L. Frank Baum?  How the hell does Nora Roberts keep pumping those novels out?

Well, I’ll never know for sure unless I just go ahead and do it.  I know I want to… I just have to get over my insecurities and start typing.

Ok… I’m going to open the file now… soon as I make some tea… and some toast…

The Universe has given me this time… I need to make sure not to squander it in doubt.