When I saw NaBloPoMo Show up on my feed, I was already signed up for the blogging and writing courses for November. That didn’t stop me from being curious about it though. I had never heard of it before. As read through the link, I wondered if I could do it. Could I blog for thirty days straight? I know myself, and questioned if I could really do it.
I sat on it for a few days, and reread the link. Then I signed up.
Because I don’t know that I can commit to posting everyday, but why decide I can’t and move along with it. Why not try? So this is a challenge I issued to myself.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “If You Leave.”
Its a question I ask myself every time I consider leaving my job. It’s what I ask when I think about leaving New York City. These aren’t easy decisions, and not decisions that I can make on impulse. Yet I have major admiration for people who can do these things on impulse.
The downside to leaving my job is that I don’t have another one lined up. So while I want to leave, to leave without something lined up would be very irresponsible. The upside is limitless. Maybe I’ll find a job where I will be happy and enjoy what I do, where I look forward to coming into work every day, and the jump in pay goes without saying.
Leaving your city is equally hard. The upside of leaving the city is starting fresh somewhere new. A new city means new friends, and new opportunities. The downside is leaving your family and friends, which is not easy.
I realize that you have to do something that scares you. No matter how big your fear, you have to go for it. Its easier said than done. Its why I admire people who take these chances, sometimes without hesitation. The person who goes across the country to be apart of a startup, the person who leaves their job to become a full time blogger, and the person who leaves their good paying job because they were unhappy. I wish I had even just a little bit of their courage.
Another Year older.
Quietly reflecting on where I am. Where I was, and where I want to be.
Reflecting on goals and dreams. Those discarded. Those delayed.
The happiest moments. The moments of peace. Those dark moments.
The many times I was disappointed.
The many times I was elated because I did something I didn’t think I could do.
The moments where I start to question things.
Those times I didn’t understand.
And when I finally start to get it.
I spent some time alone at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden this week. I went during what was lunch hour for many people. It also felt like a Summer day in Fall, and surprisingly there weren’t many people.
I found myself a bench and just sat. I stared across the expansive lawn, and listen to the quiet, only the sounds of different birds near by. It was so peaceful, and it was just what I needed.
The last few weeks have been challenging. I have constantly been questioning myself, which is never good, and have been dealing with quite a few disappointments, plus the added stresses that come with looking for a job, and also visiting grad programs.
Sometimes it all gets so overwhelming that I find myself doing nothing. It is just so much easier to not deal with any of it, but I know that I can’t keep ignoring the tasks at hand. They aren’t going to go away. I have to deal with reality.
So I’ve spent part of my weekend very low key. I needed to evaluate myself, remind myself what my goals were, and assess my “game plan”. Are the tasks too much, or do I just have too much going on? It was still overwhelming, but it needed to be done. It needed to done so I regain my focus and my drive.
I know I’ll feel like this again. I just don’t want to get to the point where I do nothing.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Express Yourself!.”
I’m not a singer, and I don’t have a good voice.
I do not play any instruments.
I have no artistic talents. I can’t draw and I have no crafting talents.
I’m no actress.
I have no photographic skills, none that would make a me a amateur.
When I need to express myself, I just write. I’m by no means the world’s best writer, but it is my outlet. I can write about my feelings, I can write about my day, and I can write something completely made up. Any story that forms in my head. Stories that make no sense to anyone else, but I found it worth writing.
Whether pen to paper, or typing on a keyboard, writing has always been my way to express myself. Especially since I’ve been somewhat uncomfortable expressing myself outwardly. Sometimes I share, sometimes I don’t. It is my little outlet of expression..