Accountability

I could blame my busy work schedule, or point fingers at numerous outside factors that have remotely nothing to do with my absence from this space. I could say I'm too tired to dedicate a fleeting moment of downtime, or blame my medication for seducing me into slumber earlier than anticipated. I could blame my dog, or my workout schedule. I could also say that I just don't have the desire to create memories in this place anymore. I could say a lot of things, but the majority of them would make me a liar.

I've been restless lately. In the midst of many breakdowns these last few months, I finally realized what my problem was...

My problem was me.

Inspiration comes from the most unlikely places. From a conversation with a friend, words of wisdom from a stranger, to a solar eclipse interrupting the monotony of your work day. For me, inspiration came in the form of disappointment from an 'almost' relationship gone South. It showed up on my timeline, words posted by someone I'd never met but who knew exactly what to say to give me hope. It coaxed me out of my comfort zone, and forced me to seek out others with similar interests as mine. I went to workshops, I joined organizations, I made plans. This time, I had to be serious. I had to realize that for so long I had been selling myself short, denying my talents and doing everything but what I should have been doing all these years. This whole month has been a constant reminder of who I am destined to be, and what version of myself I had been hiding from.

Now is the time, and for once I have to hold myself accountable.

My whole life I've felt like I had a story to tell, and a purpose bigger than what I had allowed myself to envision in my mind. Stories have always been dying to be told, words taunted me in my sleep daring me to write them down. Hell, I spent countless hours writing my own name, over and over and over again. The pen in my hand, the ink up against that paper brought solace and calm to my spirit. I've always wanted to creative. I have always wanted to write.

As it seems, God has placed a hold on the chapter of my life where I become a wife and mother. Although both are still my deepest desires, I know there is a reason I haven't reached that place in my life. I genuinely believe it is because I have work to do. When I say work I don't mean my Monday through Friday lady lawyer work... I mean purpose work. Passion. Healing. Creating. Expression. Story-telling. I want to create something that will outlive me, and make an impact on many. I want to entertain and educate. I want to spread laughter and emotion. I want to write.

My friend and I had a conversation earlier today about our goals, and committing ourselves to making 5 year plans. In 5 years, as hard as it is to believe I will be 40 years old. By that time, I will be a successful published author.. I will have created a brand and will have explored various means to express my creativity. I will still be a practicing attorney, but my passions will be my first priority. I will be happy. I will be loved. I will have accomplished so many things that I always thought too far fetched to be my reality. I will be successful. But most importantly, I will have shared a tiny piece of myself with the world.

I do plan to make a more concrete five year plan, but for now I felt the need to put the wheels in motion with this written manifestation. I have to keep pushing. I have to stay motivated. I must dedicate the time. Accountability. It will happen.