The flow of water reminds me

Written 5:52am, in my apartment, Chandler, Arizona, Monday morning, March 28, 2022. When I am stressed at work I evoke my creative spirit. With that, peaceful images of water flowing through my chest calms me. This is evolution. Previously, I sought solace in escape, nostalgia, or giving up; unproductive acts motivated by fear. Now I know, the path forward is creativity and, more importantly, community. For decades I did not interact with others that held similar interests, nor did I engage an audience. I remained alone, vacillating between a past I could no longer obtain, while lamenting a present I never enjoyed. But I can be happy, do something I am passionate about, all while working with motivated and inspiring people. I don’t need to waste another minute regretting my choices. The world holds a beautiful, new, glorious destiny, and everyday the flow of water reminds me.

Sunday morning

9:20am you are in the bedroom in Dana point. You woke up this morning and went for a walk with the dog. You got gas and washed the car, bought treats for the dog then coffee with breakfast for everyone. Your daughter is showing you videos she made. She is being so creative. She is proud and happy. That is all you care about in the world.

Writing

9:36am We are getting ready to leave for the activity center. It should be a fun time. Right now I am thinking about the creative pursuit of writing and what I do for work. I have come up with a new perspective. In the summer of 2002, well before my daughter was born, my wife and I moved to Valencia, California from Evanston, Wyoming. My wife kept her corporate position but I quit my job as a religious consultant for the state of Wyoming. We moved so I could be an actor and my wife could be closer to family. It was a rash adventurous decision we made as newlyweds who were sure we could conquer the world. The move was not free of tension. My wife was supportive but skeptical. While she looked forward to spending time with her sisters she wasn’t sure of my new plan for work. But I was confident. I envisioned myself auditioning for parts and easily getting jobs to pay my share of the bills. As soon as I got to California I began submitting headshots. I auditioned for some student films and got some parts but not nothing else. By the fall I realized I had neither the drive nor the talent to be a successful actor. I wasn’t terribly heartbroken. I tried and it didn’t work out. I accepted the failure but was left with a creative void. I needed to find a new pursuit. 3:09pm hanging out at the activity center, picking up where I left off. I decided I was going to be a writer. It wasn’t too much of a reach. Starting years earlier in seminary I had written some stories and started a novel. In fact I had just finished an autobiography of my youth titled “The Journey and the Destination.” In the moment I was happy. Writing was my new identity. This is noteworthy because it was during what I consider the most vibrant period of my life i.e. the time I was a hospice chaplain. In reality being a hospice chaplain was not my career choice. It was the job I did to support myself while I wrote. I loved being a chaplain. I cherish the time but I identified as a writer more than a chaplain. Just saying that reduces my anxiety. It changes how I approach work and purpose. For so long I have viewed my situation as facing a choice between sales/operations or being a chaplain. In reality I am facing a choice between sales/operations and writing. I know who I am, what I want to be. I want to be a writer. I am a writer. I simply realize I can’t expect writing to produce sustainable income. So the question I ask is, “What do I want to do to support myself while I write?”