We always see something for ourselves. Some goal. Something we want. Could be a longterm something, something for this week. This Monday, how you want to start the week and how you see the week progressing. Write something down. Keep moving. The stationary seer isn’t a seer. Capitalize that, ‘Seer’. What you can do to your story is deserving of acknowledgement of some award and reward. Award and reward yourself with knowing you can live and attain whatever it is you see for self, and gift yourself with ACTION. Moving. No more of the low self-estimation, no more of that goddamn overthought. Stop waiting for inspiration or some words of motivation from others or the internet, even the one writing this note to himself which he’s more than beatified to have you take time from your day to read…. Find the gems on your own. In your story. What’s right in front of you. No need to wish. For anything.
You have everything. The keys and solutions, the panaceas and fantastic cure-alls you wish would knock on your door are already in your pocket. We decide that we want something for ourselves, don’t we? And that’s rather painless. Why can’t the same be true of obtaining that aim, that scene where we see ourselves professional and, or, personally. Just moving and taking it?
Keep a journal, which it’s known is a completely expected and stinging cliché of an English Instructor. Get yourself into character, while moving the pen. Don’t worry about sentences, don’t worry about mechanics or spelling, punctuation, anything. Take a couple jots to yourself and for yourself, and MOVE.
The writing act makes you more a Seer of your scene, where you see your steps eventual. There’s music to everything we do, but we have to listen, be more than merely observant. Connected to each beat and pulse, each breath.
Talk only does so much, if anything. Writing is different. It confirms and declares. It’s paginated, put to page as to not be moved or even shoved one way or another. Actuality materializes from movement, from deciding against any sort of surrender. Monday, or any day, is an invitation, where we have the option to write and re-write. Move the pen, for five minutes, even three, two, and see what’s wielded to the frame, those lines beneath chin.
Anymore, any more’s shouldn’t be entertained or wished. They should be grabbed, made part of the composition. There is no room for excess deliberation and certainly not stalls, or putrid stops. The story demands more than enthusiasm, or simple and over-repeated and bragged about passion. Just action, motion, actuation. That’s where there should be fascination. Not in some quote, or article by other.
Notes and notes and note. To YOU. Your Self. Keep the pen moving, but not at action’s sake. Draw everything out and start the story. To be a Seer, you have to trust all tallies about your Self… your character and story, where you are and what you’re doing, why you’re doing it.