i write to believe.

The saga of work environments continue. The past week has been filled with a mix and match of different things.  Activities that allowed me to envision a future of opportunities in the creative industry and activities that kept my mind locked in the unending attempt to fix the present day toil to produce "our daily bread". My interior resolve to keep moving along despite the tremendous heat-scorching discussions about strategy, method and beliefs continue to stretch me to my limits.  What an intellectual battle this is.  Not to mention a spiritual one. While I attempt to remain what the Good Book says "a peacemaker" so that I may be graced with the Blessedness to be called "sons of God"  I am finding it to be such a great challenge to keep my "own peace" amidst all this. Woven into an intricate thread of relationships, I am trying to find a better title for myself just to describe what it is that I do.  And I feel that it is imp

From my journal: written on June 8, 2011 9:33pm  My public writing rhythm has stopped much to my regret and as much as I want to try and conquer the challenges that face me at work, a bigger part of me still wishes that I can just write, for a living.  But I have lost all things to say.  The voice again silenced and perhaps it's not that voice that should be refined or further defined right now.  I just really wish I could be surrounded by a more meaningful life. When fighting for the meaning of my existence doesn't have to be crossing somebody else's disposition and just send them packing. There's nothing beautiful to write about these days and I am slowly starting to feel pained because it feels that I no longer know how to look at beautiful things.

I started reading this self-help book that has long been buried in my unread stack of books and it occurred to me.  I  need practical help.  I need to sort things out.  I need to review my life's purpose.  I need to get a good hard look at what I have been doing the past 3 years and ask myself: is this where I really want to be?   I think I've made so many excuses because I have not made up my mind.  And truth is, I actually don't know where to start.   Yes, I've been in and out of this "writing" rut the past year.  I've managed to put up with this blog and coughing up about 1 post per week (if I'm lucky).  I've managed to leaf through pages of books every now and then and have mostly finished spiritual ones to keep my faith afloat all this transitory "mess".  But what have I really been able to figure out the past 3 months into this year?   My writing voice lacks the tenacity of a grown woman.  I feel like a child cowering

I saw this video in a friend's Facebook page.  Watched it.  Thought to myself.  I should play this video for people who often misunderstand me and what I am about.  Why I easily tire when I'm around people.  Why I am never stimulated when I am amongst crowds.  Why I would rather lock myself up in my room and cuddle up on my couch with a good book.   It's painful really.  To often face other people who do not understand your need for Quiet.  It's also painful when you do not find people who need the same thing as you do.  I've been thinking about this for quite a while now.  How I am often finding myself alienated amongst the majority because I am an introvert.  And how I value contemplation a lot more than the constant need for activity.   More and more I find that it is necessary to admit this part of me that longs to withdraw from the crowd every now and then not so much because I am anti-social but because I find that I am able to appreciate their company mo