The Insomniac's Progress

I've been walking a certain road for many, many years, 43 to be exact. Like a traveler who researches and plans a trip to a new destination, I've always understood where I was going, although I'd not yet actually been there. I've experienced a lot on this journey. From Good Samaritans to Headless Horsemen and everything in between, everyone and everything I've encountered has served as a teacher, whether they had my best interests at heart or not...

I won't lie to you. I thought I'd finally arrived at my destination, but when everything fell through in November, I fell too, coming as close to a nervous breakdown as one can come without allowing oneself to be sucked into the abyss. But I'm made of some strong stuff. I have a steel thread running through me that may bend from time-to-time, but never kinks and certainly never breaks.

Yesterday was a difficult one emotionally as I reached a personal crisis point. Sitting here working on my manuscript I took a good long look at myself, or what I have become over the past two months. I saw a vivid image of myself at a dead end, two-track road after having taken a wrong turn. I was sitting on the side of this road, ankle deep in a mud puddle, my head in my hands, with a small black cloud pouring rain on my head while all around me it was sunny and dry. I went into this "mini-vision" and in typical fashion, gave myself a swift kick in the pants.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself, you wuss," I told myself. "Get up and retrace your steps. At exactly what place in the road did you get distracted and lose your way?"

The answer was easy: it was when I learned that my millionaire uncle had died and that there was a will and trust, and I was the next of kin. Like the proverbial Israelite in the desert, I allowed myself to be distracted by the Golden Calf. All that sparkle! The orgiastic celebration! Damn, it felt good! Like falling in love, it released addictive chemicals into my brain and I was high! At least this wrong turn occurred recently and not years ago; retracing my steps should be relatively easy. Before I had that ace up my sleeve (or thought I had), I always counted on getting where I'm going through my art, my hard work, and my tenacity. But don't we all wish we could get an easy ride to the realization of our dreams? If you've been walking for miles and miles, wouldn't you accept a ride if it was offered?

I refuse to allow my dream to die and I refuse to settle for second-best, or a consolation prize. I have so much going for me that to remain in that puddle under that rain cloud would be gross ingratitude on my part and ingratitude is never rewarded. That much I have learned. Besides, that's just not my style.

I never completely expose myself to you, my readers, of course, but I tell you enough that I want to apologize for the depressive tone of my posts lately. It will change. It has already changed.