Chapter 1 (more or less)
I am wondering. Years ago I thought maybe I had a story to tell, but it stayed inside, protected by the formidable Buffalo Gal…the part of me that people see, but don’t really ever get to know. I hoped I would be special, something shiny in this world, but really, I knew I was just me; ordinary, awkward, and never really recognized as anything more than that.
Here’s the strange thing I whispered to myself in words of clarifying prophecy… it’s all a lie. For as far back as I can think, I have sent myself mixed messages and I’ve bought easily into them. In one thought I’m an extraordinary writer, lifting, encouraging, motivating, and moving others with my awesomeness, my light a golden beacon in the darkness. Then comes the next thought from the buffalo, telling me to forget that shit, that I’m just me, nothing much to look at, let alone listen to. I hear both voices and I acknowledge both perspectives, allowing them to live as me without really being me. My prophetic self spoke, telling me to wait, to somehow hold on throughout the war of whirling thoughts and there would come a time to find the storyteller, to free her and let her speak. I am frightened, but here I am…somehow I’ve convinced me to try now.
I am a delicate little thang. I am also a buffalo gal.I often host internal battles, bloody and violent with my disavowals and stubbornness. I can never really win, but that also must mean I can never really lose. I am bringing the two of me to a summit and we are going to make personal history here – right on this self-created blog. I have a story to tell, and by God, no matter what bluff and bluster the two of me present, it IS going to get told. I will no longer stand in my way. The prophet has spoken!
As part of my battle plan I’m joining the Word Press Daily Post Challenge. This is my attempt to keep me writing, especially when the fear gets loud. Here’s the link:Prophecy