Dec 022021
 

Last year, I sort of skipped my usual month-long period of reflection and envisioning what the next year will look like for me. For the world, 2020 will be a year remembered as when our concept of normal started to be redefined.

Looking back, 2021 has been an even better year than 2020 for me/us.

We managed to nearly finish our Italian residency (when that is done – with card in hand – I will update on that). We have agreed to purchase a new house that we love and has all kinds of positive energy in it that I barely notice that I either haven’t stepped outside all day or left the property in days. πŸ˜‰ The Universal Asian platform has evolved, rebranded and continues to grow such that I am confident that it is on the verge of bursting into a money-making venture. Friendships have grown, been lost, and depended upon. M and I are still strong together despite a few up and down days, but our love continues to flow. My health is in good condition and I am overall satisfied with my exercise πŸ’ͺ🏽 and weight.

So, not a bad year upon reflection and my mental health wheel of life seems to be evenly balanced. Therefore, it is time to expand the diameter of it for greater fullness.

One area that I am planning on focusing 2022 on is in my writing ✍️ . I’m tired of my own claims to want to write a novel and not having anything to show for it. I’m tired of making excuses for why I don’t or can’t write. Therefore, as I type this post, I am sitting in a cafe as the beginning of my commitment to make weekly writing dates away from the house, on my own, and refusing to give in to other distractions that present themselves on my phone, in my inbox, or wherever. It’s no easy task, but it is necessary. I know I have read enough books πŸ“š on what I need to do now that it is time to put into action and create results!

Along with this, I am going to make a concerted effort to finish my book coaching course that I started in November 2020. Although I mostly started it for my own benefit to understand what it takes to consider writing a book, I also feel that it is something that I can do on the side over time.

One might think that running the platform is plenty, and in most ways it is, but I intend to build it up to the point that it can run itself or become an entity on its own. So, while TUA is a passion project, it is not enough fulfillment of my creative side. Therefore, I want to spend 2022 giving more attention to who I am as a creative, a writer, and somewhat quirky human. πŸ€ͺ

~T 😁

Nov 232021
 

For the TUA platform, we have had a few events that share the creative works of others. As I experience the events, I find myself envious of the community and the expression of their work.

As a child, I desperately wanted to share my stories and searched for others to hear my words. Yet, I never really did. My mother would read my stories and critique for grammar or flow, but if she actually understood my words, I didn’t know. My father would read my stories from school and though he might have appreciated the content, I think he didn’t see the point of my wanting to write. They are not to blame, by any means. However, if I had had a community of adoptees or other Asians with whom we could share our creative energy, I would have pursued such a path more vehemently.

Instead, it has always been a hobby to write poems or stories. I’ve had a few pieces published in actual print and I have contributed to online publications before starting TUA. However, despite my desires to make writing my main focus, I have not. M claims that perhaps it is not really a passion or dream of mine to write since I have not yet done it. It’s true, there really is nothing stopping me and I do have the time, for the most part.

Yet, I do not write.

But, I am a writer.

Still, I do not write what I should write.

However, I do write on my blog, in my journal on a daily basis, stories now and then, for my writing group when inclined.

So, where or what is the problem?

I blame time. I blame distractions. I blame the platform. I blame my husband. I blame…myself. I blame…fear. I blame the what-ifs.

They say that we have to create a habit and a routine. I keep saying that I can’t or don’t need to. They write. I only do sometimes. Perhaps it is time for me to finally push aside my stubbornness and admit they are ‘write’ and I am not. Though I like to forge my own way in life, there is something to be said for the proven track record of others – they can’t all be wrong, can they?

Yet, I recall never having to stay up all night to write academic papers because the way that I write was not like my peers. So, while ALL of my peers pulled all-nighters to finish a paper, I wrote mine during the day in a matter of hours because I had put most of it together in my head. I also brew on topics and stories in my head before they ever hit the keyboard/pen to paper. Then, I sit and “vomit” it out. Still, there must be a balance because I do know that the creativity aspect is not being accessed regularly. I know that I could write more. I know that I could have more polished and powerful pieces than I do.

Thus, all this circling in my brain is to say, I have creativity envy. I admit it. I don’t like it and so I shall take some space to consider, adjust, and reconfigure how I remove the envy and join the community more actively. πŸ˜›

~T πŸ˜€

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