The older I get, the less optimistic I am. As a little girl I knew I had a calling to help people. I didn’t know exactly how I would do this, but I just knew things would work out.
My life and the world are strangers to me now. Unrealized goals and day-dreams have jaded me. Inspiration is much tougher to achieve. I lose focus, and even worse, purpose. Then there are distractions, responsibilities, irritations to deal with. When Christmas feels more like a burden than a holiday, I know I’m in trouble. Adding to the mess are diabetic complications and sleep deprivation.
Here is where I start getting depressed. Insecurity about my writing – the book is taking so long, my blog is neglected… A couple of hours of this and now I have no clue why I love to write, I’m obviously crappy at it.
Then, I come across this little quote by Confucius:
I find myself calmed and inspired to keep going. Those philosophers are GOOD!