I Want To Be More Than Just Me

I Want To Be More Than Just Me

I want to be a writer. I believe I would be a good one. Distractions come my way.  Ideas that are deposited in me are snuffed out. My memory fails  so I don’t remember the snippets that would make for a great story. My recorder is forgotten and the creative flow is dammed up. No matter what tries to stop me I will put words on paper until I accomplish what I set out to do.

I want to be an artist. My paintings are beautiful. Many have said so. Full of color and life that draws you in to become a part of the community. Then appears an old nemesis fear slithering in with the same old plan to steal, kill and destroy. For some strange reason I succumb to those old outdated tricks. All my creativity comes to a halt. I’m shut down and can’t deliver. I’m telling that voice to shut up and I’m arming myself with my paint brush, paint and canvas and going to war.

I want to be a musician. Music was built in me before I was born. It’s always playing in my ear. Sometimes songs I’ve heard. Other times songs that are being birthed. There are also personal songs that are between me and my Lord. When music starts dancing fills in my feet. Melodies circle me. How do I capture them and express them? I lift my voice and sing. I’ll dance with the broom while sweeping my floors. I’ll be the best pianist that ever tickled the ivory keys.

My goal is to conquer the fleeting moments of creativity and let the masterpieces flow from my being. I will express the ideas that come forth from the Throne room at the time they are to be released. I believe I can and I will.

I want to be more than just me. This is me!

Is there anything that is preventing the creativity in you from coming forth?

When the Past Knocked

Sometimes the past knocks on the door of your present and informs you it’s suppose to be in your future.

That happened to me the first time a month ago. When I answered the door I was totally surprised the past had caught with me after many years.

My dream to be an acclaimed pianist as a child seemed like a unobtainable dream. I didn’t think my mother could afford to give me lessons so I never asked for fear of hurting her feelings. Many years later as an adult I started lessons when my daughter was taking them but I didn’t finish. Years later I decided to try again. I managed to take lessons for a whole year including a recital. Since that magical time-no more lessons.

Last week there was another knock. This time I was impressed to get my keyboard out. I dug into the back of the closet and found it. Much to my surprise my piano books were in the case also. Looking through the books I found my recital piece. I can still play some of the songs in my books.

img_1297

I found in my mailbox information about a music school that I will be checking out. Very interesting.

I believe I’m suppose to honor the knock and finish well.