I want to be a writer. To live like a writer and feel like a writer and work like a writer and earn my living as a writer. This is my deepest desire and it always has been. However, I have spent a good portion of my life ignoring or forgetting my heart’s truest desire. I get caught up in things that lead me away from my real purpose. For example, I”ve spent a lot of energy on relationships with men who I see in hindsight didn’t deserve my time and effort. If I’d used the passion I put into those doomed relationships into myself, my art….
But that’s all in the past. What can I do right now to get myself back on the writer track? Because for me, life is always holding out pretty, shiny alternatives to the writing life. Alternatives with more money or prestige or normalacy. It’s like the universe constantly tests my commitment to writing. And I nearly flunked the test. Again.
A full time job got posted at my college earlier this week. One I’m qualified for. One I have a shot of getting. At a rate of pay that would solve so many problems, like funding retirement, and bring me so many pleasures, like plane tickets to see my kids. It was tempting. Of course it was. The universe sets things up that way. It’s the one question test I’ve been taking my whole life. The question is How Much Do You Want to be a Writer?
And my answer is–enough to forego a chance at a job that would raise my self-esteem, make my husband proud, afford me a solid way to see my kids on a regular basis, get respect from my peers, and bring more job satisfaction. Yes, I’m willing to give up the chance of winning all that so I can move ahead with my master plan of clearing my schedule so I can write.