We’re beautiful even when we let these scars show… Danny ‘Madman’ Maddox isn’t supposed to make Skylar Haze’s heart beat out of rhythm. At least not anymore. She hasn’t seen that boyish face, always covered in a five o’clock shadow, … Continue reading
Why am I here? What am I doing?
[pur-puhs] Show IPA noun, verb, pur·posed, pur·pos·ing.
verb (used with object)
6.to set as an aim, intention, or goal for oneself.
7.to intend; design.
8.to resolve (to do something): He purposed to change his way of life radically.
I’ve sat back and looked at what I am doing here. I’ve sat back and compared myself to others. I’ve asked myself why I am not getting attention like Meyer, Glines, Webber, Sparks. I’ve compared my success to theirs. I’ve looked at books that I’ve cursed myself for looking at like How to make $49,000 a month selling your ebook. Oh, seriously, come on. You have that secret ingredient–but sorry lovely, it isn’t mine–and I highly doubt your spamming will work forever. It doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t. My purpose isn’t to make $49,000 a month selling books, would it be nice? I’d be happy if I made $100 a month selling my books–heck, $50 would be nice. It would be nice to make $49,000 at my management job. I don’t. It would be nice is a fallacy created by envy–by lack of purpose. It would be nice fills us with self-doubt, it fills us with a lack of purpose–a lack sight. We lose who are are in it would be nice.
When we step back we should look at what our purpose is–knowing this will help to get to nice. The thing about defining your purpose that makes it that much more difficult is the fact that it’s unique to each human being–our motives are all different. We do what we do for different reasons, but when we lose our purpose we are walking blindly–trying to accomplish a goal that we have no idea why we want, besides that it would be nice. The thing about having a strong sense of purpose is that it will give you the drive to get results. As we set on our road of purpose we learn the things that will make us successful, and in turn we make mistakes and see what won’t make us successful. How do we measure that success? When I start measuring it in dollar signs I start to lose my purpose. That’s because my purpose isn’t to make boat loads of money right now (eventually–the five year plan includes working from home in marketing and writing as a career). When we sit down to evaluate our purpose we need to make sure it’s strong enough to help us off the road of it would be nice, we need to make sure that it allows for a consistency that provides inspiration to continue even when we feel like we have just been handed a big ole pile o’… This applies to so many aspects of life. If we lack purpose then when we start with the it would be nice, all we do is sit and stare at that sign. We don’t actually do anything about it.
The easy route is just saying it–when we have to define our purpose we have to do self-examination that can be painful, or enlightening, or both. This comes into regular life much more often than it comes into the writing life for me. I have passion for writing. I love it. Regular life, regular job–not so much. The self-doubt is often measured by what others are doing.
I didn’t get that promotion. I don’t understand why that person did. I know I’m qualified.
Make a change then. Do it. I dare you. When someone says screw you, you don’t have to sit and say it would be nice. If you know your own purpose you can say screw you back.
There’s this thing in life–where you do a job because you have to–because you don’t have the means to do anything else. You’re a paper pusher, you work for the man. The man doesn’t give a rat’s butt about it’s customers…but you do. That’s your purpose. You care about those customers. Those customers can count on you when they can’t count on the man. In everyday life you don’t have to know the man’s plan–hell, if you know it you don’t even have to agree with it. He’s often after money. If your purpose is to help those customers and you do, the man’s plan is only background. It doesn’t matter. You can accomplish your purpose while sedating the man. You help yourself, you help the customer, and hell, you even help the man.
Now, in the writing world you can’t necessarily escape the man, but what you can do is become the man. The man with purpose. You’re your own boss when you write, you create your own world for others to enjoy, you create your own purpose with your writing. Even if you’re with a major publisher, they can’t take your purpose away. You know why? If you know your purpose, your drive–not the drive of your publisher, will make you successful. This isn’t to say that there aren’t writers out there that are successful merely because of their publishers, and the money they were able to convince someone to spend on marketing them to the Best Sellers List. Yet, as I have delved deeper into this world I’ve lost respect for those things–those Best Sellers Lists. I’ve learned anything can be bought. I’ve learned that dollar signs often make us lose our purpose. We need to know our purpose before we start driving forward, but purpose does change. When I first started I needed to prove some jerk from high school–some teacher that beat me up emotionally, some ex-friends, some ex-other things, that I could do what I wanted. I needed to prove to myself that I could do what I had always dreamed of. I LACKED PURPOSE. I’ll go and admit it. I don’t anymore. My purpose has evolved. I’ve always wanted to be a writer, and that’s what I am. Now I want to help others do that too; I want to inspire people. I want to make people laugh and cry. I want to make people it would be nice me and then I want them to do it. Purpose isn’t easy–nothing in life that’s worth it is. I’ll lose my purpose again when those dollar signs flash in my face, as I know they will, but I know one thing–I won’t let my purpose disappear. I’ll take it back. My purpose is you–the reader.
It would be nice…Will you make it true?
*definition from dictionary.com, inspiration from article from Life Insurance Magazine.
I realized at a relatively young age that I didn’t see the world the way that everyone else did. There were so many things that went on in my head with one singular action. I never had anyone tell me I saw the world differently. I just always felt that way from the way my eyes saw things all the way to the way I felt things. I still feel that way today. As a child I wrote a lot–all the time. When I was seven I was published for the first time and then when I hit my teens I hit the road blocks some teens hit. I wouldn’t say all of them hit the particular ones I hit. I really hope they don’t because it wasn’t fun. They weren’t the typical ones like drugs and alcohol, even to this day I’ve never been “loaded” aka drunk out of my mind, honestly I haven’t even really been buzzed. I hit the blocks where you lose a part of who you are. What I lost? I stopped writing. You’re probably wondering why I am telling you this; it has something to do with rejection. Last Monday I told you how it inspires me, but it didn’t always. It didn’t even come from people who matter, but I still believed what they told me. I still threw away my pen and kept the way I saw things jammed inside my head. It practically drove me insane. I had to find another way to deal with the way I saw things. So I found a camera, and started taking pictures–of everything. I started experimenting with lighting–natural lighting. I, to this day, haven’t used any artificial lighting in my photographs–even portraits. I just find the sun and use it. I love photography because it enabled me to vent what I was seeing without saying anything. It allowed me to sit in the splendor of the world and just bask in it, even when I felt that the darkness could consume me.
Photography is seeing the world without the need for words.
I could sit in my silence and not be disturbed. I could bask in it without feeling completely alone–I could be me without the nasty interpretations. The thing about photography was that I didn’t doubt myself in it. I just took the camera and started taking pictures–crap cameras to boot. I refused to use photo-shop. I wanted my photographs to speak for myself when I couldn’t. That’s what I did–and it helped me to get back to the place I was supposed to be–to the writer I was supposed to be. Finally, when I told someone to take my camera and try to take the picture I did because they thought it was so easy and they couldn’t even come close, I realized that what they had been saying was wrong. I was a photographer and they hated it. They had hated my writing, too. I realized it then that they had just been trying to take me down and well, I had let them. I still let them until a year after I graduated high school–when my husband told me to flat out write something. He said something to the tune of, “You don’t like that book? Why don’t you write one that you will. You used to write and you were good at it.”
The thing about my husband was when I met him he saw everything differently, too. He saw it as musical notes and lyrics. The way we see things changes as we get older, now he sees things as cars and helicopter tricks (you should see him fly these things–he’s insane with them). The way I saw things changed as well because I got back to actually being able to see them. Then I gained the confidence to let you see them too–in both my writing and my photography. It all comes down to this:
Sometimes we need to be our own muses.
Without further ado, here are some of my photographs. No photo-shop (minus my company name).
- Natural Light (nolagirlatheart.wordpress.com)