It Matters

Its been a long time since I sat down and faced the keyboard.  While I had many ideas to exploit, it comes down to does it matter?  I am not sure, all I know is that the need to acknowledge the inner side that has been buried underneath by the demands of life.  It is like I am  screaming from the inside begging to be fed something, something that I feel I cannot provide.  While I am an active reader of many and wonderful blogs, I cannot help but be somewhat envious of them.  While their writings are exceptional, I have come to realize that the bloggers are doing something that they love.  While I am trapped fighting to develop what I know is inside of me against the negative naysayers that quite often tell me that I am wasting my time.  I just know that it is something that quiets my mind, it provides a peace from the disappointments, expectations, and pending obligations and provides me a space of freedom of where I can be me.  I prefer sketching to writing because I enjoy the creation of something that I imagined.  While exploring what can be, I find that I become relaxed and by doing that I become rejuvenated and able to function in my many roles.   The need for me to find such a time to release my frustrations or just to recenter has grown because of the new responsibility of being accepted into Nurse Practitioner school.  On one side I never thought this is were my road would take me.  The amount of pressure to succeed is daunting at best.  While I struggle to keep from hyperventilating at times, I know this has to work because of who depends on me to do this.  The amount of pressure I feel is hard to bare at times.  I have also been accepted into the highest Honor Society for Nursing.  I went to my induction and waited in line to receive my accepting certificate.  I looked into the audience and realized how big this actually was and part of me was in denial that I was in line to receive the honor.  As I stood there I couldn’t help but realize that I was proud, I worked hard, I am a good nurse and have the potential to rise higher.  Yet, the creative side felt betrayed.  As they called my name, I walked on to the stage, but with each step I felt the creative artist die a little. Have I chosen my path in life?  Have I given up of becoming an artist? The funny thing is even as I ask that question now, the inside of my head screams a resounding NO! So how do I find balance?  The answer was staring me in the face.  As I was reading through my horrendously boring assignment in epidemiology I found my self doodling.  I stopped and found a spark of hope that maybe just maybe I might combine the two.  While reading I discovered that my learning went higher when I drew the connections out.  I gave myself permission to explore concepts through art.  Yeah its not the art that I love to create, but it is still art.  So while I walk down this new path that honestly scares the hell out of me, I find comfort in keeping my little sketch pad close by. 

“It does not matter how slow you go so long as you do not stop.”

Wisdom of Confucius

 

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