I will hold myself accountable to completing my 30-day goal by making one of the following commitments:
TODAY’S JOURNAL PROMPT
Staying committed to my 30-day goal is important to me because I need to make a commitment to myself. Where once I had time to do the things I wanted, including writing, I now see the Dead End sign ahead. Not that I’m anywhere near the Dead End, don’t get me wrong, but my perceptions changed at 50. When I was younger, the future never ended; after 50 I know that it does. And I know what I do with my life matters, both to myself, to those around me and to the world.
And to those characters that live with me and inside me. Lucky them. They get to the Dead End when I get to the Dead End. Not all of them are happy about that, let me tell you.
I am no longer overwhelmed by the world, at least not on a daily basis. The world has gotten smaller as I have gotten bigger, not in size so much as in spirit. I no longer have time for my fears to overwhelm me.
So, for today, I will go forward bravely and confidently, knowing the universe will care for me. I don’t need to worry about where the money will come from. I just simply need to know that it will there, the money, when needed. As will the love, the support, the friends, family and teachers when needed.
Today, I bravely stand before you, readers and friends, to affirm my decision to commit to the important things in my life. Both quiet and loud, dark and light, soft and hard. I do this as my public statement (knowing if I don’t you will remind me, over and over and over, until I learn) to be true to myself and the worlds living inside me.
And there was definitely something in the air – call it magic if you like – because that was the happiest Christmas any of us could remember, which makes me think that perhaps, like luck, magic is something we can make for ourselves.
Twinkling lights flashed through dying foliage, dimming or brightening depending on how the surrounding leaves and weeds shifted in the wind. He’d never been here – to this particular place – which was about the only thing going for him at the present moment.
By lockdown, they would miss him and set up the chase. He couldn’t go back. He wouldn’t go back. He’d take his own life before they lay a single hand upon him.
Drastic measures, yes, but better to die outside, free (okay, maybe sort-of-free) than live trapped in the 7 x 5 darkness he’d known so long. Five years alone, seeing only the slash of the guard’s face – hands – pushing slop through the slit in the door. He’d almost forgotten the meanings and beings of light.
Stars twinkled all around, making him wish he could twinkle forever. If only he knew how.
In the distance, baying hounds filled the night.
Up in the darkness, where only stars could see, a new star sparkled into life, twinkling happily.