So? What is the Point?
Occasionally I am haunted by random existential thoughts. I’m a writer, I’m supposed to, aren’t I? – What is it all about? What is the point of life?
I used to look up at the sky and feel the crushing weight of those ‘unanswerable’ questions and feel so small.
Early on, before I even worked up the nerve to call myself a writer, I was enveloped by the ‘idea’ of who a writer was. How we are often portrayed in real life.
Depressive, Weird, quirky, eccentric.
So, I became depressive, weird, quirky, and eccentric. Seemed like a fairly natural progression.
BUT
Did I become that way because I was a writer? Or because that was some consensus that the world came to because of a few famous writers who happened to have terrible home lives?
My favorite quote of all time “If I do not write to empty my mind, I go mad.” By Lord Byron. It became a sort of mantra for me for a long time.
Then it became a kind of crutch.
Go mad.
Funny thing that Idea, isn’t it?
That mystique of being a writer – depressive, hot-tempered, alcoholic, extreme – there’s a tragic sort of romanticism about it. But, guess what?
IT
IS
NOT
TRUE
It’s a mirage, an illusion.
A silly, carefully constructive hallucination – created by overindulgent, somewhat spoiled individuals who surrounded themselves with other self-indulgent, self-destructive individuals who enable them. – OOOhh – that was super judgy – Bad Vicki. Hahaha.
— I am imperfect —
Bare with me though. I’m getting to my point about ‘what is the point’
Which is, dun dun dun, there is no point. It’s all made up. Everything is. We’re here to have an experience. That’s it. The great mystery of it all – to experience it.
What if I told you your entire reality is one hundred percent up to you?
Hard to believe I know – and the very fact that it is hard to believe makes it that much harder to create. We cling to our illusions like a baby to his Mama.
I’m going to help you shatter this – I’m going to help you take your reality and smash it against the closest wall and open you up to your possibility.
The world is changing, and we can remake it into whatever we want.
Like I said above, for many years I bought into that whole writer personae. I lived it. Survived it. If you could call the constant anxiety and how I stopped leaving the house almost entirely, living. (Stay tuned for my Seven Minute Ride Post coming soon)
Then one day, I had enough. Something had to give. This wasn’t living – I started searching – I had an awakening.
And I’m here to share it. Show you how to live it. Be it. Embody it.
And here is your first affirmation: It’s My Reality, I create it.
Say that over and over as often as you can remember.
All my love!
Vicki