Trading Talents, Trading Dreams...

It's exactly 11pm right now and I'm sitting here writing a very honest entry.

First off, let me say that I'm quite proud of how honest and consistent I've been with my entires lately. I'm an outgoing, open person and I feel the need to be honest. I used to feel that I couldn't be honest with this blog, but now I realize, I can, if I choose to be. Sure, there a few things about myself and my life that will NEVER be posted here, but then again, a few secrets are good.

Today, I didn't do much of anything physical and I ended up taking a long three hour nap this evening. It seems to be what I now do with my Friday nights-sleep. LOL! Anyhow, I had a lovely day hanging out with my mom, watching movies, chatted a bit with Hugh, meditated....and

I wrote FOUR poems. I came in here about twenty minutes ago to sing. I LOVE to sing. My whole life all I ever really wanted was to be a big, huge famous country singer. A mega superstar who could stand up on stage in front of hundreds of thousands of fans and belt out a tune with perfect pitch, ease and harmony. Up until I was 19, that was exactly what I thought I would do. It didn't matter back then that I really don't have a voice to sing with. I mean, I don't make people wanna run for the hills with my voice and I'm sure there are worse singers out there, but I'm not record contract material. I still love to sing and I still do it just for the sheer enjoyment, fun and esacpe of it, but now it's a hobby, not a dream. Now, I have different dreams.....

I love being the center of attetion, and years ago, nothing would've pleased me more than the thought and dream of being a rich and famous singer. Now, I dream of having a rich and famous singer record and release a song I've written. My ultimate dream is to hav the audience sings those songs back to the singer-the audience singing the lyrics I penned.....that's my new dream, but let me tell you why:

I felt the NEED to be famous. Until one day, when I was about 17 or so, my dad asked me "why, people are always in your face, you're never alone, no privacy, everything about your past is brought up for the world to laugh at and you don't need to be famous to please God."

True....

Then, one night at my grama's company Christmas Party (again, 17) there was Karaoke going on and of course, I wanted to do it. She wouldn't let me. She told me I couldn't sing and would never make it as a singer and that I wasn't going to embarass her with my "singing."

I was shocked, hurt, crushed and my eyes immediately filled with tears. If I could have, I'd have knocked her on her butt right there. I remember being so infuriated and hurt on the drive home that I didn't speak to her the whole way. It still hurts to think about it, but you know what, she was right....

It was after that that I started to focus more on my writing. I've written poetry since I was about 10, and some of it was pretty good. At 14 and 15, I wrote A LOT. Then, like I mentioned last night, I met Stetson and after having had that whole experience, I wrote my butt off. Some of my best work was after that heartache. I moved to Vegas and wrote about ten poems from Dec. 2003 to February 2005.

In March of this year, however, I felt the urge to write again. I started writing, just jotting stuff down. Nothing spectacular, just ideas. Then, in June, when I visited my grama in Reno on my infamous Summer Road Trip 2005, I started writing again-but this time, it was great material. It was long and intricate and beautiful. Granted, I have a LOT of work to do with my writing and as a writer, our work is never really finished. There's always drafting, rewriting, and being your own worst critic. We all have a long way to as a writer and it seems as if the editing never ends! LOL! But, the point is, I was writing, and that's what counted.

When I returned from my trip, I was inpsired again by the wonderful and amazing, life changing experience I had just had. Taking that three week trip to Oregon and back changed me, inspired me, motivated me and made me stop and think.

I've made it a point to write at least every other day since, hence more entires in this blog. I don't care what it is that I'm writing, as long as I'm doing it.

One of the reasons I keep this blog is in the hopes that will inspire a poem or a song, or a thought that will lead me to tell a great story. This morning, I was going to go back to bed to sleep, I only got five hours last night. However, as I layed down, I started versing words in my head. And as it always goes, I got my butt up outta bed and wrote...and wrote..and wrote...and wrote...

I wrote four new poems in about three hours. Some of them great, some them of okay, two are long, two are short. I wrote two other poems this last weekend and I have other verses and lines in mind (and on paper) to play with at a later time. Great, thank God!

I'm finally inspired, my grama tells me that while I may not be able to sing, I can sure write. EVERYONE says I can write, so I want to learn more about it; writing as a culture, as a technique, b/c like anything else, it's not just about the talent. Talent is great, we know I have that, but it's the other stuff I need, and I'm finally at a point in my life where I want it.

My grama says she'll help me publish a book of my poetry, and I'm going to take her up on that offer. The poems today just poured out of me, and although everyday isn't that fantastic as far as my writing and ideas go, I'm impressed that I can write at all. A lot of people can't.

I never wanted to be a journalist, and I still wish I could sing. But, the truth is, God knows what He's doing. With my body, my health and my voice, singing just wasn't the avenue I was supposed to take. In fact, I believe that if I had been born with a "normal" voice, I'd have never been given the gift of writing.

So many times in my life, I've had to WRITE it down, because I could not physically speak-literally. I was on a trachea and ventalator for many years and then oxygen and other various medical crap. It all inhibited my ability to actually speak-so I kept the thougths in my head, my brain rarely gives me a moment's rest, and it's turned out to be the greatest gift God could've ever given me.

While a part of me still wishes I could sing like Wynonna or belt it out like Celine Dion, I'm okay with what I have. Because, maybe they can't write like I can. Maybe they wish they had the talent for writing. A lot of people do.

I don't think I'm the best writer, but I do believe I have a talent for it and a desire and the passion-and that's okay, it's good to believe in yourself. I can believe in myself but be realistic at the same time.

So, the whole point of this entry is; I may not be a singer, but I AM a writer, and you know what, that particulary story's looking pretty great right about now. I'll trade the singing dreams for the hope and dream of becoming a rich and well-known writer. Think about it, authors can be very famous, yet still live their own private, quiet lives, usually near their families and spouses and kids, sequestered in solitude in a home....

Writers are famous enough to be remembered for greatness, but not famous enough to be bombarded with paparazzi when they go to get a Starbuck's....

Writers are known for their talent, with just an underscore of fame. And today, at 21, that's what I want.

I traded singing for writing, and singer for writer. I'm okay with that, and I thank God for each blessing everyday.

I finally have peace with my talent, with my dreams.

I realize it's okay to let go of some dreams; because better fitting, more exciting ones will ususally take their place.

God knows what He's doing, all we have to do is trust him!

That's all for now folks, goodnight!

Many Blessings,
SL