Waiting for Inspiration, My Aura, and Going Back to Work

Buddha floating on water.

On my desktop, I have a quote from Stephen King: “Amateurs sit and wait for inspiration, the rest of us just get up and go to work.”  It’s been on a post it note on the top left hand corner of my desktop for months.  I read it every time my computer turns on.  Yet, as my post timeline indicates, I haven’t worked on my writing as much as waiting to be inspired.

So many times I feel inspiration, the fusion of idea and purpose, but I ruffle at the inconvenience.  It happens when I’m driving, or I have to put Polina to bed, or when physically I’m too darn tired, just don’t feel like putting pen to paper or would rather read passively than write actively.  Sometimes I write notes that I shove between gaps on my bookcase.  When I do have time, I’m usually not inspired and writing feels like work.  The time when the two intersect is magical, but rare.  Like water, I follow the path of least resistance- surfing the web, reading about stuff I don’t remember the next day, much less a week later.  Time wasted.

In the past month, I lost my job over kitty litter.  Actually, things were building up to that point, but it was the final straw.  I struggled how to explain what happened.  I went through a period of anger, then sadness and a little despair before realizing, “thank God I don’t have to work there any more.”  I turned to what’s next.  I realize patterns re-occurring in my life, but I didn’t know what to do.  I turned to an aura reader.  For an affordable fee, I needed the help.

Samantha came to my home to read my aura.  I didn’t think I was capable of an aura.  I thought of doom, an over-characterization of my unfulfilled life.  Instead, Samantha saw positives.  “Lime green,” she said about my first layer.  “I see that in people that win the lottery.”  “Yellow,” she said about another layer.  “You are creative, but you are limiting yourself.”  “Deep blue- you have wisdom.”  This was going better than expected and more importantly, felt true.  She said I was a healer, but needed to use my talent to heal myself.  She shivered.   “A truth bump,” she explained.

Sometimes a person needs some kind words.  Whether they are true or not doesn’t matter as much as the feeling one is left with, and I was left with a good feeling.  Indeed, I felt my energy shifted.  I had a clearer view of where I was going and confirmation of where I had been.

What Samantha confirmed for me is that the universe doesn’t have emotion.  It just is.  Since I was a child, I was looking for a true and just God.  I believed He existed.  I reached out again and again.  I cried out for Him but was left with this awful, almost agonizing feeling of loneliness and despair.  In my deepest despair, the agonizing feeling of being alone felt like I was going to die.  My most recent realization is that a loving God would be wonderful, but it is not my reality.  If it’s your reality, that’s great, but I can’t follow someone else’s reality.

“We all have different paths, and that’s fine,” Samantha explained.

I also realized how extraordinarily happy I am in my current situation.  My last job, while providing an income, was abusive.  I was pushed out of that job, but at the very least I’m not in an abusive situation any more.  My husband has more work and is working overtime, so I am thankful that his job is able to make up some of my lost income.  I am thankful that I can dig in the soil and work on some medium term landscape projects while he is at work.

I am thankful that we have embarked on a marriage course through a local church.  The course has some religion but not exclusively so, and it has helped me to see my husband in a different light.  I am thankful that I am fortunate enough to be a stay at home mom and to be able to devote my full energy to my daughter.  All this time I have been comparing myself to what other people have and now I realize…. I don’t want what other people have.  I like what I have.  My most pressing issue is my daughter’s bad behavior with me, but I am even getting help with that.  And my daughter has even started to say, “I love you” to me again.

All in all, it is not a bad life.  On a very fundamental level, I live in a home where I am not afraid of being bombed or attacked by chemical gases.  The worst that can happen is a break in, and thanks to my husband, we put in a security system for that.  I live in a community where I am not afraid of my child being kidnapped and raped by a religious group.  I am thankful that I can be with my child to protect her and can dial three numbers for emergency assistance.  I am thankful that I live 10 minutes from an artesian spring and have access to fresh, clean drinking water.  I am thankful I have electricity to power a stove and can buy pre-made food if I don’t have time to cook.

It’s not a bad life.  And today I got out of my funk and got back to work.

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