Just when I think I’ve got my priorities worked out, something seems to come along to uproot them or upset them.
I keep finding myself needed to resort my list of what’s most important to me. It seems I only have so much energy and time in each day to do the things that nourish me. And I can’t pick all of them at once.
Earning a living is up there. But perhaps I’ve let it get too high up there. It’s just money after all. My job is not what I’m about. It’s not all of me. And even then, when I talk about what I do, I’ve been telling people about the things I don’t like. Not complaining or bitching about the job. But I tell them I’m in PR, that I’m a media whore, that I do web design. Which is all true. But what I’d really like to be doing is writing. And some photography. But mostly writing. So I should tell them that I’m a writer. Because we create our own realities – by the things we say, the things we think, how we classify ourselves.
Why do you think I go around calling myself a goddess? It’s not how I always feel about myself. But it’s how I want to feel. It’s how I want to be. So I create that reality, sometimes in advance of that reality actually being completely real.
So I’m a writer. From now on, I’m a writer. And a musician. That’s what I do. How I apply it is irrelevent – whether it’s PR or journalism or tech writing. I’m still writing.
So, priorities. Still redefining them. But that’s OK. Getting off-track a little doesn’t mean I’m not still on the right path. Music’s a priority. Staying balanced and centered and relaxed is a priority. Grounded. Fortunately, the two feed each other. Spirit, music, love. I get so impatient to have everything happen right now that I forget (or don’t see) how on track I really am.