I haven’t written a thing for my novel in months. I had a deadline for the first draft and I’m definitely not going to reach it. I have several excuses but not that I’m happy about. It seems that I’m more diligent with deadlines for other people than I am for the ones I created for myself. It’s not always wrong. Being responsible and keeping my word are very important to me. However, I don’t understand why I can let my things go or push them to the back burner while I fulfill some obligation I made half heartedly.

My friends and family are encouraging and point out the different projects I have going on simultaneously. They tell me not to worry because I’m working in my craft and am writing pretty frequently. But I had a plan. I have stories that need to be told. There are characters that are standing on the sidelines tapping their feet out of irritation as I’ve ignored them and their issues. There’s music that needs to be written as well. I wrote a song last week. Never in my life has it taken me so long to complete a doggone song!

I decided that something has to give. Actually I have to give. I have to give something or some things up. I can’t participate in everything that comes my way. There’s no point in saying yes to an opportunity when the whole time you feel guilty about everything else you’re neglecting. Of course I’m exhausted. My brain is wearing itself down climbing the ever-growing mountain of guilt. I need to write, but I need to write what I want to write. My heart needs to feel free. After all, isn’t that what we imagine the ideal life to be? A filled and free heart; for me I’ve found attaining it is easier than I’ve been making it out to be.

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