Feeling Whole & Taking Control

Sometimes, you just don’t know what it is that is going to make you feel whole. And when it comes, even if it shouldn’t, it can take you by surprise and change your entire attitude.

For a couple weeks now, I’ve been making a list of potential article ideas for one of the freelance writing sites I signed up on. I registered three weeks ago, but had yet to write a single word, other than these lists. Ideas that were floating around in my head haphazardly, without any real substance or flow to them.

Suddenly, last night, without rhyme or reason, my mind started moving in the right direction. I had real ideas. Real things to write about that might actually, maybe, hopefully pleeeeease be of interest to people, and result in some sort of standing on this website.

As I was washing my face before bed, my head was exploding with ideas. While brushing my teeth, I came running back into my bedroom to jot down a note or type a few words to get across the point I was working on in this crazy head of mine. I was impatiently waiting for my toothbrushing cycle to be over (thank you, Sonicare, for ensuring I brush the proper length of time every single night) so I could get back to my computer and get more of the thoughts down before they floated right out of my head again.

I finished up a conversation I was having with a friend on gchat, and I sat down on my bed. (I don’t have a desk…but I could use a lapdesk of some sort for my MacBook…hmmm, birthday’s coming up…but I digress.) Instead of sitting in my usual place at the head of the bed, propped up by my pillows, I sat at the foot of my bed, facing my pillows, back to the mirror. I wasn’t going to get distracted by anything, and I was going to force myself into a zone of work rather than my usual lackadaisical blogging. The only things staring back at me were my photo collages from Australia, which always inspire me. I played Amos Lee very low in the background: chill music that wouldn’t distract me from the task at home, but would keep me from going crazy to the sound of my keys being assaulted by my fingers that were moving faster than my brain.

An hour later, I had furiously pounded out my first article that I am going to submit to this site. I need to do another edit of it, but I think it’s not too shabby. It’s nothing ground-breaking, but it was an easy one that I could get finished quickly and efficiently, without a ton of research time needed. Sometimes you just need to get that first obligation done and the rest just comes easy from there.

What surprised me, and I’m not sure why it did, was how accomplished, at ease and whole I felt while I was writing this article. I felt like me again, for the first time in a while. I was just telling my roommate earlier last night how I feel so lost right now, because it feels like nothing is in my control.

Maybe what I’m realizing though is that it is in my control, in some way. It’s in my control to do what makes me happy, what makes me feel like myself and what makes me feel whole. It’s in my control to get down to work and make it happen.

I can’t control what other people will do: which employers will ignore my cover letters, which ones will think my résumé is a joke, what my medical prognosis is going to be with this foot injury. I can’t control any of that.

But I can control how I deal with these things, both proactively and reactively. I can make sure I am putting my heart and soul into every single cover letter. I can work with an old friend on how to brand myself. I can pound out an article for a freelance site without any guarantee of payment or recognition, but what the hell, it will be a link to put out there. I can do my physical therapy exercises at home on my off days to make sure I’m keeping my foot active.

I can be in control. I have the power to take this into my own hands, at least with some elements of it all. Beyond what I have control over, well then, c’est la vie. There’s nothing I can do about it. If it doesn’t work out, it’s not meant to be, and something else is out there waiting for me. I just have to go find it. No more sitting idly and waiting for it to come to me. It’s time to take control.