I don’t necessarily like the word passion. For me, writing differs from passion.
Hello, my name is Laura, and I’m a writer. That means I innately digest and express through words. Freeing this process is essential to my well-being.
Tell this to a super spiritual person and he’ll be like, no, you aren’t a writer. You’re nobody. You aren’t supposed to be anybody or attach yourself to something (especially not words or thoughts). Shame on my voice!
The thing is, what do these super spiritual people do with their lives? Anything tangible that lasts besides counseling others and striving for clean perfection?
I’m not one to criticize spirituality. But some people are too “spiritual.” Like me when I was anorexic and wanted to be so pure I could not eat.
Being around the super spiritual people I feel them testing. Take out a wand if you wish. Then again, ask me how I feel if you want real answers.
A healing professional I saw last fall told me I am an “indigo child.” We did reiki and apparently I’d taken on all of another family member’s pain, which she read through my energy. Something about being extremely sensitive and “gifted” in this way.
I’d never heard of what an indigo child is before but then looked it up. Conventional people don’t like it. However there are books on the topic by those who have discovered and believe in it. Here is the link to a book by Lee Carroll and Jan Tauber. Maybe one day I’ll read it!
I’ve written before on my blog and in my book about seeing a shaman who told me about blues from the west in my aura. She told me about my past lives and this topic comes up through the protagonist in my fiction book as well. Something else the shaman seemed to believe in was “the one.” I told her this story about a bad guy that came up through meditation and involved a crystal ball; she said no all is good. But, actually, I’m right. Curses do exist, don’t you think? This bad guy wasn’t always bad but I witnessed his transformation to evil and died in the process. That’s, essentially, what I told the lady, with a little more plot.
I have to tell you this is all really annoying. Because as soon as she said “one” my anxiety shot up–”I’m going to mess it up.” Of course, I’d already decided who it is and this person was totally erroneous; the relationship became a game of me holding because I, like, hypnotized myself! There’s lots of different people I’ve liked (I listed them all in the process of making up characters for my second book) but three in particular stand out that I definitely had an attraction to genetically. This is essentially what my entire second book is about in fiction. Working through these tugs because let’s face it genetically I was wired for anorexia and am attracted to people that deprive me emotionally (before consciously realizing it) and express whatever shared trait we have narcissistically. Like an inwards-backwards pull.
Well, I wouldn’t want to give to much away before I finish the promotional text for my second book. Thanks for reading! By the way, don’t think I’m weird. Just different.