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Contemplating April From My Couch

Contemplating April from My Couch

A quarter of the year is gone. I don’t feel I have much to show for it. I have talked a big game, but haven’t accomplished as much as I would like to have accomplished.

My focus is nonexistent this point.

I keep trying to change the way I do things and experiment with different projects in different timelines. Sooner or later one of them will work.

Today, I am laying on my couch with my microphone positioned two inches from my face and my voice dictation software running. I spent my weekend rearranging furniture and cleaning my apartment. The entropy of winter caught up to me and I was forced to accept this spring cleaning is more than just a cliché.

 I’m not in the same good shape I was 10 years ago. Moving furniture around by myself has left my back sore and spasmodic.

I am happy with the results of my living room though. It needed rearranging. I needed to have my life rearranged.

There is something to be said for the magical power of a little change. I moved the furniture, and that was enough to give me a new perspective.

I’ve been procrastinating on my creative endeavors. I keep pushing off anything that uses the part of my brain capable of turning imagination into something tangible. It isn’t a creative block. I keep finding things I believe are more important. My priorities keep shifting. Everything I want is clocking around a handful of dice and I don’t know how they’ll land.

I think I tied so much of my sense of self into being a writer I never stopped to consider if it was what I was.

I jumped into writing urban fantasy because I enjoy reading it, but I’m not sure I enjoy writing it anymore. I don’t know I get the fulfillment from it. Based on sales and reviews, I’m not sure many good at it.

I have career ADD.

I have real ADD, too. But, it’s much worse for trying to decide a path I will follow for the next 30 to 50 years.

Things keep getting confused and muddled inside my brain.

I will not give up, but, I’m not sure if I’m on the right journey anymore. I don’t have the passion I used to have. I don’t have the drive.

I don’t know my why.

I used to think it was money. I could justify the career by saying I love stories and art, but it was about the money. I’m all about the Benjamins.

I thought.

I’ve found semblance of financial stability and the desire to earn large amounts of money no longer motivates me. With that drive gone, I’m realizing the desire to create isn’t much of a motivation either.

And then, there is the desire for attention. The inner drive for recognition and acknowledgement. This small need to prove myself.

It’s always been there. I think anyone who suffers from issues of self-esteem and self-worth has that buried deep inside them. The need for external validation and it isn’t healthy. I still have it, and it will never go away. But, like money, there are easier ways to get it.

So if I’m not driven to create, and I’m not driven to earn, and I’m being validated in other ways, what’s left?

When I started blogging, it was a message. I thought I had one. Thought I would change the world.

Now, I don’t know.

I still want to help people. I want to have an impact and make the world a better place, but don’t know from doing that.

Still plenty of time to figure it out.

So, for now, oh keep going. I’ll keep experimenting. Sooner or later, I’ll find the thing that works.

Published by M.A. Brotherton

M.A. Brotherton is a writer, blogger, artist, and fat-kid from the suburbs of Kansas City, Missouri. He’s tasted a little bit of everything the Midwest has to offer, ranging from meth-tweaking rednecks in massive underground cave complexes to those legendary amber waves of grain. When he’s not writing, he spends most of his time screwing around on the internet.