Now I'm Ready

I started this blog in July 2013, five months ago. I wrote my first post, a draft of the second, and YouCatalysis was forgotten, abandoned. Blogger, however remained my home page. I realized today I was not ready then. I am now. After 10 weeks of the Artist's Way, a book by Juila Cameron, writing everyday, I learned my fears. I've seen them, I've realized how unreasonable they were, and I've broken them. Or maybe not. Maybe my fears are still alive, just damaged to the point where they're in a coma, and really can't lift a finger, let own bother me. I'll tell more about them at a later date, it'll be useful to some of you, maybe help you discover your own fear. You have to know them and be aware before you can fight. Either way, they are no longer holding me back. I owe a lot to Morning pages, they saved me. Morning pages are three pages supposedly done in the morning, but I had trouble with that, so they ended up through out the day (bad). You simply write your thoughts, stream of consciousness, Julia Cameron gives an great example that I'll show you:

"Oh, god, another morning. I have NOTHING to say. I need to wash the curtains. Did I get my laundry yesterday? Blah, blah, blah ... " They might also, more ingloriously, be called brain drain, since that is one of their main functions.There is no wrong way to do morning pages. These daily morning meanderings are not meant to be art. Or even writing. I stress that point to reassure the non-writers working with this book. Writing is simply one of the tools. Pages are meant to be, simply, the act of moving the hand across the page and writing down whatever comes to mind. Nothing is too petty, too silly, too stupid, or too weird to be included. The morning pages are not supposed to sound smart although sometimes they might. Most times they won't, and nobody will ever know except you. Nobody is allowed to read your morning pages except you. And you shouldn't even read them yourself for the first eight weeks or so. Just write three pages, and stick them into an envelope. Or write three pages in a spiral notebook and don't leaf back through. Just write three pages . . . and write three more pages the next day.

I'll go into greater detail in another post, just simple tips, like not censoring yourself, and other things I've learned. A quick Google search should bring a lot. Anyway, today my pages told me that I loved being a dreamer. That was what I identified myself as, being a dreamer, was striving to do big things, it was the answer to "Who am I?". That identity never included accomplishing anything just dreaming. I sabotaged myself, because I never wanted to lose the identity of dreamer to achieved-er. A dreamer seemed a more romantic,a more beautiful concept. Achieved seemed empty. Now, this was deep inner beliefs, I don't go around thinking, No, I won't do this because it might make me achieve something. It was discomfort, unease in my stomach doing things I loved that would take me to achieved, avoiding work I planned to do, starting but never finishing. Finally, I asked forcefully why , why was I doing this? My morning pages forced , pushed me into finally saying and discovering what I believed. While doing Morning pages, you're drawn to asking the hard questions. I asked why I wanted to be a dreamer. Dreaming is safe. Being awesome wasn't. It does hurt when you never accomplish anything and ask, wonder what s wrong with you, but you know it. You know how much pain, actually trying to accomplish a dream, who knows much pain is down the road. Then I realized something. I'm Muslim, I've said so before in my last post and in my bio. I'm going to try to use more than one term God, Allah, (Arabs Christians included,tend to use Allah, the Arabic word for God) and the way it is and fate for atheists. Now, the way it is, you're going to face a trial, major pain, it'll make you stronger or in some cases, it could drive you to kill yourself. Either way, its happening, God/Allah sent it to make you stronger (or make others stronger, since you committing suicide would be a trial and major pain to cope with for those close to you). Its happening, I'd rather it be injuring myself while running or strength training so badly (and very very unlikely, I know) that I get paralyzed than suicide, because of depression from being a failure, since deep deep down I'm too afraid of the unknown. Plus Muslims get sins forgiven for illnesses. If you catch a cold, God forgives some of your sins, get paralyzed? Probably more forgiveness. My leg joints have been feeling funny and painful sometimes, does that get me sins taken away? Probably less than paralyzation. Sorry, a picture of Stephen Hawking is staring me in the face.