I'm talking to my sisters on the phone and laughing at one who keeps threatening my life if I don't get my writing life right. I laugh because I can't argue with her. She's right. I do need to get it together. I am the lazy servant who buries her talent in the ground hidden and safe but not benefiting anyone or myself. Hidden and wasted from the world it was designed to bring joy and healing to. I know it. I've always known it. Tonight I laughed because I got chastised by my sister who only wants the best for me. I laugh because I have challenged her on things where her own hardheadedness blocked gods blessings. And now it's my turn.
I asked another sister as this conversation unfolded why she was blocked from writing. She mentioned being exposed. I thought about that. Am I afraid of being exposed and open? Actually no. I vowed to be open and transparent. I try to own all of my experience as it's a part of me. I'm not afraid of feeling exposed. Im not sure what the real deal is but I'm going to spend time figuring it out. Why do I avoid writing when it's the most natural thing in the world for me? I need find the answer to that question.
I'm looking forward to discovering the story that is first on the list. There are so many!
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