"My Life isn't Perfect, but I am grateful."

Blogging Friends.... Warning. This is yet another self-serving "therapy session". {Don't worry. I am not suffering from any minor mood swing-infused pity parties!! Yet!!} So, come. Sit. Have a cup of tea, coffee, soda, wine, or just plain water. Read on as God gradually works through my life....

"Minuscule is good!

Trust me, it’s much better than thinking everything you do is important and meaningful. That is not good.” --Robert Downey Jr.

Question. Have you ever wanted to do something your entire life, only to eventually realize that it is virtually unobtainable?

{This query possesses "errors". I used the word "to" twice in one sentence. This is not my writing "style". But I will let it go. Just this once.}

I am a writer. I'm an artist who paints pictures with words. You know what? I somehow always wanted to be a writer. Really. Growing up, I would often take my favorite American Girl books, the ginger-haired, green-eyed, spirited colonial-times character, Felicity, and rewrite Valerie Tripp's stories on our clunky old outdated computer. Yep. They were her stories. But my characters. This was violating copyright laws, I know!! Never published, these stories are, most likely, still on that clunky computer, even though they were not any good!! Now. Rest assured, my monthly fictional children's stories which I post on "Minuscule is good!" aren't copied off of somebody else's work!! No. I like my stories to be unique, and "me". Not Valerie Tripp. You know that popular phrase "There's nothing new under the sun"? Well, when it concerns my Creative Writing Projects, I respectfully disagree. I "Go for broke and exempt all clichés if possible.".

Have you ever wanted to do something your entire life, only to eventually realize that it is virtually unobtainable?

Writing may have always been my aspiration, but being published, eventually, was the goal. As a kid. As my parents' most rebellious teenager. As an adult who is currently pushin' thirty. Being a published author was always my dream. {I hate that word!!} However. In this mostly digital age which we find ourselves living in, Dream and Reality collide like Major League Baseball outfielders against their opposing team's potential run. There is emotional pain, emotional "bruises", even emotional "fractured body parts". But only one "outfielder" gets the fast-flying baseball. And Reality somehow always makes this catch, leaving Dream broken. Fractured if you will. My dear friend {Who I apologize for dragging into this drama!!} wrote in an e-mail that I need to "redirect" my goals. Good advice. But may I ask how, exactly, "redirecting" my goals can be obtained, when Dream has let me down? Huh? May I ask how, exactly, "redirecting" my goals can be obtained, when I haven't any left? Dream robbed me of them when Reality made the catch in Life's "outfield", remember? I have not replied my friend's e-mail, as I needed to nosh on her advice for awhile. {I will send her this post!! She does not read Blogs!!} So. I need to "redirect" my goals. How about this? I "redirect" my goals--whatever they are--in writing true stories about Rose on Beautifully Unique for memory's sake? Or this? I "redirect" my goals--whatever they are--in anticipating a new month as I write fictional children's stories for "Minuscule is good!"? Or this? I "redirect" my goals--whatever they are--by writing, writing, writing. For God's Glory. And for me. You know what? I do not want to be a writer. Because I am. I always, always, always have been. Being a writer is in my DNA. I am an artist, who paints pictures with words, after all. Being a writer flows proudly through my veins. I am a creative, unique individual. {So people keep telling me!!} Being a writer is truly my God-given gift. For which I am grateful. So very grateful. I do not want to be a writer. Because I am. I always, always, always have been. No, I want to be a published author, and see my books sold on store shelves. Like Valerie Tripp. But, alas, Reality beat Dream for the baseball in that outfield. I found something which was posted on a Kindred Spirit congenital diaphragmatic hernia Mom's Facebook page tonight. It stated this. "My Life isn't Perfect, but I am grateful.". Wow. That describes my existence so well, it is almost uncanny!! I cannot become a published author. Yet, I am grateful. For so much. And the pangs of my broken, shattered dream {I still hate that misleading word!!} will not throb forever, right? I'll wipe away my periodic tears as God works through me. I will "get over it". Correct? I do not know. Because right now, the fact that Dream disappointed me hurts.