Monday 23 October 2017

Out of my hands.

Out of my hands.

It’s been decided for me.

Plenty of times I have suspected there are moments of ‘oh, I should be doing this.’ or, ‘ah I think they are leading me here.’
Often, I don’t listen.

Tiny voices echo in my head, “write! Write!” and I feel it in my gut too.  I begin to write. I am filled with joy. I love it.
From deeper within another voice begins to whisper.
“You aren’t good enough.”
“You need to earn money.”
“You like stress.”
“You like rushing around.”
“You like routine.”
“You love doing your make up and rushing out the door.”
“You need a proper job.”
“You need a normal job.”
Driving my friends crazy, I look for reassurance.
“I love writing, what do you think I should do? Could I work online? Do you think it could be a success?”
They tell me, “YES!” Every time.

So I write.  

Something takes over and I read back what I have written, feeling as if it has generated a little magic.  My words; somehow with a twist of soul.  
Downstream with ease.  
The dream, this is the dream.

A whirlwind of practicalities and childhood programming interrupts my passions.  Imagine, as a child, growing up with no internet, jeez not even a mobile phone in sight.  A cordless phone was for the privileged few.  
Working online was something not even invented.
Being a writer meant getting a book deal from a publishing house (and they would be taking a huge chunk of your earnings).  No wonder this little voice of doubt hops in to throw me off my tracks.

Getting to it.  Working hard on the job that, yes, is the dream but still somehow is only explored mostly in the industry - working for others - towing the line and not questioning what the boss might say.
Being told you can only have time to yourself for 4 weeks of the year. After that, your life is theirs.
Don’t expect to put your healthy eating, exercise, taking care of your family first.  All of that comes after…

Dreams of taking my laptop to write (to some fireplace within the woods, looking out through windows filled with nature views) take a back seat.
Just as my pen and journal couldn’t consider visiting Bali for a couple of months, my Nikon will sit and gather dust rather than accompany my muse I write while touring California.  
Simplistic holidays in Mykonos creating videos for all to see on my vlog channel will all have to wait.

The dream might be on hold.

Synchronicity of my friends and my health shake me. 


Take the dream off hold and listen!
“Louise you are a natural leader.”
“So many people find you inspiring.”
“You talk from the heart, raw and real.”
That’s the friends.

The health says nothing but does lots.  Crohns sees me unable to dash out of the door.  The make up does not cover my dark circles.  Fatigue puts me into bed.  Malabsorption contributes to mental health issues. 
Arthritis. Infection. Inflammation. Degenerative discs…the list is a long one.  
Refusing to give this focus, I continue with my stress filled life. Convincing myself it’s a buzz.

Convincing myself the dream life is plan B.  Only to be used in an emergency.  As this cannot possibly be the sensible option.

Today sees me back in hospital.  What looms next made me afraid.  From that fear the dream is once again born.  If life was shorter than I had hoped what would be my absolute must do?
Finish that book.  That IVF story I’m loving to write.  The one folks have been waiting to pre-order in, like, forever.

Spending time chatting to two very close friends tonight on Facebook messenger (while mis-typing through the drugs I have had to take) we figured out a few things.
Why do I doubt it when I have sold books already though my amazon page?
When over 9000 people visit my blog every month?
When 482,981 people have watched my Youtube channel? And it makes me money every month.
Why Stylehaul signed me up as a creator and pay me to create.
Collectively around 12,000 people follow me on social media channels…not a bad number and definitely a few good platforms.
Companies like Giorgio Armani, Musclefood, Abel and Cole sponsor me to experience their products. 

What am I questioning? 

Today, I fall in love with my Crohns.  Another curveball.  More clarity than ever.  Now there is no choice.  I must work from home.  I’m trying to be well. Hoping to be well.  Yet damage was done as young as I can remember and I can still live a healthy life and help myself as best I can.  However, I must refuse my gut the torture of those little  voices telling me to shy away from an amazing life that is clearly grabbing a hold of my chubby cheeks and telling me to do what I love. 

If you laugh at me that’s fine.  I have not followed my dream in case of that.  Yet my life deserves to be the best I can give it.   Those who don’t support my journey can stop following, reading, clicking.  Yet I am determined to live my best life and to give my best shot to working.  This work needs to respect my disease and fit in with my loving family, my wonderful life and the fabulous plans I have.

Who’s with me?

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