I just read a blog post. Ugh. Sometimes I am so strong willed but so weak minded. Blown about on seas of uncertainty in a fragile whisper of a dinghy. The idiot servant in the parable of the talents.
I stress and fret about doing the wrong thing or doing things the wrong way. Always. Always worried about following the wrong path. Making the wrong decision. And so like the idiot I am, I beg for a sign, a marker. Something that not only says You Are Here, but also says Yes, You are in the right place.
So that’s what I was doing after some, I’m not sure what – it’s more self induced confusion – it can come on like some out of the blue malaise that gives no warning but kicks your ass in the blink of an eye.
And here I am, yet again, whining for a marker, a mile post to make sure I’m on the right path. And an email comes from one of my writer buddies. A new blog post. And the post is a metaphor for writers being curators of a museum. And it’s our job to explain (not describe) works of art to blind kids.
I’m going to say it. Please don’t freak out. God is weird. And I am glad.
I hope that made sense. I’m getting sleepy. LOL Good night.