I’ve written about self-improvement a lot, and have done a lot of it. I’m at a point in my self-improvement journey where the devil’s in the details, as they say. It’s the little things that are still thorns in my side, and the daily habits that require devotion.
I have stories I want to tell, and books I want to write. Self-improvement is a great thing, but to what end? My intention is to use it to create art, write books, and play music.
Creativity is a daily thing. It’s easy to forget about it as we get caught up in earning money. Creativity is ultimately a spiritual path.
I was looking for the love of my mother, father, women, men, employers, and even strangers, but finally saw that the love I was seeking was my own. In my darkest hour, all I could say was “God loves me” over and over, and that turned out to be the truth. Self-hatred was such a burden; poisonous, dark and destructive.
So where am I now?
Well, the self-hatred is still there, sometimes, but I don’t think it’s real; no more real than self-love. I see that I can choose either one, and not blame; not give up my power. I can reclaim and remember my birthright.
I know who I truly am.
What came before is an interesting story, but it’s all just stories in the end.
Whenever I’m at the laundry mat, I remember being in art school years ago, when I would do laundry and hang out with one of my art school friends. I thought we were some of the better artists at the school, but many years later, I wonder how many of the students have a career as an artist. Successful or not, I can say that I worked as a professional artist for over a decade.
Nowadays, illustration has been put on hold, but ideas and stories continue to percolate. I consider this period in my life as the part of my story in which I become a moral person. It’s about making attitude adjustments rather than trying to change others.
My impression of life as a teenager and twenty-something was about worldly success. Even so, I planted the seeds of self-improvement way back when. The seeds took root, and now I’m proud of what’s growing.
I’m sitting in the garage, enjoying the cool air and the sound of the pouring rain. One of the shop cats, perhaps even more, is pregnant. The one that I know for sure is Thuey (aka Fatty).
Life is a story, so I think that’s why we like to tell stories. I suppose if I knew all of the important parts to my story it wouldn’t be as interesting, but I admit that I’ve skipped around to the good parts in books. Anyway, I’m realizing that it’s fun to watch the story unfold.
I talk to myself a lot, sometimes out loud. I have many voices inside my head, which most people think is weird, but it’s normal for me. All of it translates into pictures and words that I like to express.
Last week, my dad and I received a financial blessing that will help us and the shop this year. I also used Valentines to have fun flirting with women. More than anything, I enjoy being aligned, balanced, and centered.
If I have to change who I am in order to please others, then that feels like selling my soul, and I choose to keep my soul. Within who I am is someone who has profound insights about life, while at the same time thinks about how I should cut my hair. The spiritual and material are the same.
Alchemical changes are taking place. Resentment is transforming into appreciation. These life experiences are the soil for stories waiting to be told.
In one way or another, my life has been about creating art and telling stories. I have a lot of ideas which I’ve already put out there into the world, but there’s even more for me to express and publish. I’m called to do the things that I do.
I have a fantasy story that’s been percolating for a while. On days like this, I enjoy letting the ideas simmer. I’m going to write this story, and it’s going to be an epic.
My life experiences up till now and going forward is of tremendous benefit, especially as a storyteller. What I’ve written here over the years is also a story. I trust that my dreams are coming true at the right pace.
I enjoyed falling asleep while listening to Abraham on my headphones last night. Then I woke up and cleaned the shop. It’s cold today!
One of my goals is to write stories. My life experience, rather than being a hindrance, is actually a benefit to my goals, if I’m able to see it that way. I’m actually liking the feeling of anticipation these days.
Life at the shop, which includes the adventures of the shop cats, is fulfilling and meaningful. I think, if I had to choose, I’d rather love than be loved. But I love being loved, too.