One in a Billion
The world is a funny place: our miniscule planet that takes up such a tiny portion in the vastness of space, but to us it feels almost endless. Humans are funny creatures: some believe they are limitless beings able of achieving great things, while others are so limited by their minds that futility seems inescapable. Recently I have been trying to figure out which group of people I fit into in this infinite universe. Some days I want to scream in frustration because I have yet to walk into the fullness of my capabilities. But then there are days that I look at my achievements, the things I am still working towards as well as all I’ve overcome and I’m mind-blown.
I am a firm believer in manifestation and that the energy I put out is amplified and returned to me; and herein lies my problem. For some time now the energy I thought I was putting out was overly abundant for my vision … so why am I still striving for instead of living in my greatness? If I am constantly acting on and believing in the overwhelming capacity of my capabilities; if every moment of every day I feel the vibrating energy of the life I’ve been working towards manifesting, why is there this sensation of being on a plateau of stagnation? If I am to be brutally honest, I am overly confident in my writing capabilities, skills and concepts. Maybe this is the reason fleeting thoughts of envy riddled frustration have crossed my consciousness.
Being that I am self-assured in my skills along with wanting the win so badly, there were times when I’d see that person who made it (the one that didn’t try or necessarily even want it), and it would annoy me endlessly. I am not ashamed to admit that I angst over the astounding success of E. L. James. I mean, I get it, housewife taboo “erotic drama”; people are entitled to like what they like. My point is, she wrote a series not even expecting to sell five thousand copies; she wrote fan fiction fun, not for the love of the art itself and is now is an astoundingly success. And here I am, pouring my heart and soul into poem after poem and chapter after chapter into book after book wanting nothing more than to do what I love for a living … write.
Yes, that was an unintended tangent. Unintended, but I guess it shouldn’t be unexpected if you knew me or my story. See, right now I am sitting in my classroom where I am unemployed as a teachers assistant in a therapeutic environment. I am underpaid, overworked and if something doesn’t change soon, I fear I will be in the running for lifelong PTSD. However, I do take time out of my crazy day to recharge my energy by meditating, praying, burning bay leaves and intentionally directing my thoughts. I put out what I want to get out of this life. I forgive, I love, and I focus on the joy instead of the pain. I put myself out there by doing what I love, in need of an opportunity to wow the world.
Rereading this post, I realize that to some I probably come across as a little vain. And honestly, when it comes to my writing, I am. However, in life and as an individual, I am full of humility and gratitude. I have reverence knowing that, along with time and space, the heavens aligned perfectly that I may be brought into existence on this seemingly large planet. One planet that dwells in a universe of billions of planets; one person out of billions that believes in limitless possibilities and the unending potential of manifestation. The vision I have for my life is my reality, and I will never be satisfied until I am thriving in that existence.