I am on the journey to becoming a published author.
I am already an author. I have already finished two first drafts of novels. I have several more in the works. I have written a myriad of short stories. I am an author.
I am now attempting to make money doing it.
Right now, that entails creating some social media channels – right now, that’s youtube, instagram, and facebook. I’ve also set up a website that will have a blog – all dedicated to my authoring journey.
I have editing to do, I have blog posts to write, I have videos to record and edit, a study to print, assemble, and mail… the list seems to go on and on. I feel overwhelmed. I feel perpetually behind.
I am wondering right now if it’s going to be worth it. I am wondering if I can do this. I am wondering if I can make this work. I am wondering a lot of things. I feel a lot of things – most of them are negative right now. I wonder and wonder and wonder. I try to move on and just do one thing at a time but it’s hard. I don’t have enough time. I don’t have enough free time. I have too many other responsibilities, most of which involve the two tiny darlings of my heart.
How do I continue? Do I just keep plugging away, one piece at a time? Do I stop and throw in the towel? Do I acknowledge all the feelings and let them overwhelm me?
I’ve already broken this down into the smallest steps possible and it seems like so many steps. It seems impossible to do.
Really, though, what else can I do?
I must carry on though, must I not? What else can I do? One step, one little box on my spreadsheet at a time. One spec of free time at a time. That’s all I can do. Nothing more. Nothing less.
To pursue our dreams will always take work. It will always take sacrifice. It will always take just a little bit more than we think we have. So we push on, we move forward, we do what we need to do. We don’t let feelings get in our way of what needs to be done.
Push on, friends. Do that one thing you need to do to pursue your dream. And so will I.
The next installment of the continuing story of Allyandrah and Kru’Nah.
This week’s prompt is: Faced with his or her worst fear, does your character run or stand and fight?
The next morning, Allyandrah and Kru’Nah set off. The temperature had plummeted overnight and they bundled themselves up as tightly as possible to walk. They stuck to the woods, Kru’Nah taking the unfamiliar rear position. For a moment, it struck him as odd that he, the Prince, would be following a slave.
“Not a slave,” he said quietly to himself. “My love.”
Kru’Nah often checked his vectrometer to ensure they continued in the right direction. To his continued surprise, Allyandrah walked true and straight, never veering from northeast despite their incessant weaving through the thinning trees. Mile after mile, they walked steadily, silently. Kru’Nah had a vague idea of where he wanted to go, but his plan wasn’t fully formed yet.
Finally, after many hours and as the sun began to dip low in the sky, Allyandrah stopped among what appeared to be the last of the trees.
“We should make camp,” she said.
Kru’Nah bristled slightly at her giving him directions, but he quickly reframed his mind again, pushing out the idea of her having been a slave and him a prince. He was surprised by how deeply ingrained his training really was. When he thought and fantasized about being with Allyandrah, he was never troubled by her station, but now that it was reality, he had to continually check himself.
Allyandrah had no more than spoken before she began to collect Hornothol branches for a fire. She worked quietly for a few moments, keeping one eye on Kru’Nah, who stood regally in the snow watching her work. Her love and excitement at being with him was tempered by her weariness. Annoyance began to grow as she did all the work.
Dumping an armful of branches on the ground near him, Allyandrah looked at him for a moment, pursed her lips, and walked away to collect more.
“What was that look?” Kru’Nah asked with more severity than he’d intended.
Allyandrah felt the jolt of accusation and immediately retreated into her slave mindset, dropping low to the ground in a bow. “I regret my impertinence. It was not my place.” She recited the apology by heart, having learned the basic gist of its meaning through experience. Her heart hammered in her chest, waiting for the inevitable beating.
Kru’Nah sighed, annoyed at himself. He walked over and gently placed his hands on her shoulders, feeling her start slightly at his touch. He stayed there for a moment, unsure what to say. He was fighting against a lifetime of training.
Finally, he spoke softly. “Allyandrah, I will never beat you. You are not my slave out here.”
Slowly, Allyandrah lifted her head and rocked back onto her heels. She gazed up into the penitent face of Kru’Nah.
“We have much to unlearn,” he said, standing and offering his hand. Taking it, Allyandrah stood. “Would you like to start the fire while I gather more wood?”
“That’d be good,” Allyrandrah said. Without another word, she walked over to her pile of wood and began arranging it to start a fire. Kru’Nah continued to watch her for a moment, impressed by her deftness and skill. It seemed that she knew exactly how to do everything, whereas his own usefulness out here was limited. He felt strange depending on someone else in such a primal way. Finally, he turned and began to dig under the snow for hidden branches as he’d watched Allyandrah do.
Soon, a large fire was blazing radiating warmth and the two had filled their bellies with food and hot water, melted from the abundant snow. Kru’Nah and Allyandrah huddled together, one cape wrapped around their backs and the other around their fronts, nestled into a shallow snow dugout. Both shivered violently despite the large fire.
“I hate this,” Allyandrah said through chattering teeth. “I never been this cold in my life.”
“It is much warmer back home, certainly.” The difference in their speech was startling to him. He realized he hadn’t consciously noticed the difference before. A slave’s lack of education was apparent in the way they spoke and he’d never given it a second thought until now. He wriggled himself out of their capes and set several more large branches on the fire. As it grew, spitting resin everywhere, he settled back into the capes, feeling much warmer.
As they continued to sit not speaking, he noticed Allyandrah’s breathing become slow and regular, her body limp against his, an indication of her sleeping. His wrestled against his fatigue for as long as he could before also finally drifting off to sleep.
A low swishing slowly roused Kru’Nah from his sleep. A vaguely familiar sound, though he couldn’t immediately place it. The fire had long since died down and a chill had crept back into his body. Allyandrah continued to breathe slowly. It was just nearing dawn, the sky beginning to surrender the deepest darkness of night. All his senses returning, he now felt wide awake, turning his head this way and that to locate the sound. He nudged Allyandrah.
“Hey,” he whispered. “Wake up.”
“Hmm?” Allyandrah slowly stirred as he continued to nudge her. The sound he now recognized as wilderness soldiers. He’d spent enough time with them to know this sound. They must have been instructed to find him. Should he surrender and bank on his mother’s mercy for him or force them to kill him by not surrendering? Allyandrah’s purposeful movement shook him out of his contemplation.
“What–?” Allyandrah started to say, but Kru’Nah clamped his hand over her mouth.
“Don’t say anything. Just get up and stay silent.” The pair clumsily shuffled around trying to get their capes back on. He hadn’t anticipated the word getting out so quickly and their tracks were surely fresh and easy to follow in the snow.
“What’s going on?” Allyandrah whispered.
“They found us,” Kru’Nah whispered back.
Allyandrah finally heard the sound of the shuffling snow. Her eyes grew wide in terror and she began to shake, this time in fear and not from the cold. Surely she would not be pardoned a second time. Turning to look at Kru’Nah, his face betrayed his indecision. They hadn’t pushed hard enough. They trusted too much in the wilderness. They underestimated the queen. Allyandrah began to back away slowly from Kru’Nah and the sound of the incoming soldiers. Kru’Nah turned toward her.
“Allyandrah,” he whispered fiercely, holding out his hand.
Allyandrah slowly shook her head as she stumbled and fell. Pain crushed her chest and closed off her throat as she watched his understanding grow. He knew she was leaving and he knew she was leaving him behind. Tears spilled out of her eyes and she tried to breathe as she eased backward, going beyond the last of the trees. His mouth formed the word “No,” and his eyes begged her to stay with him. He reached out more insistently to her and she paused for just a moment before turning and sprinting away, leaving her heart and her love back in that small grove of trees.
Allyandrah’s mind whirled as she ran, trying to make sense of her decision. To stay with him would mean certain death of her body but to be away from him was death to her soul. Slaves’ lives weren’t supposed to be complicated like this! Tears poured from her eyes as she ran, trying to choke down breaths. She quickly turned west, hoping to find more trees in which to conceal her tracks. Bravery was no longer her concern. Survival was.
Kru’Nah watched as Allyandrah back away from him, his heart ripping out of his chest as she backed away, as though on a tether to her. “Please, no,” he whispered. She turned and ran, taking his heart with her, quickly disappearing from sight. Only her footprints gave any indication which direction she went. He stood there, frozen to the ground, his mind spinning.
“You there!” A firm voice broke into his thoughts. He turned and tried to plaster his royal face on over his brokenness, even though his face was mostly concealed by his furs.
“Show yourself!” The voice barked again. Kru’Nah knew for sure now. It was Commander Tra’Khil.
“You would dare speak to me in such an insolent manner?” Kru’Nah’s voice grew stronger as he spoke. He hoped that the cracked first syllables wouldn’t give him away.
“Sire!” Commander Tra’Khil and all his men immediately dropped to one knee, right arm crossed over their chests, heads bowed.
Kru’Nah tried to think quickly. He turned his back on the bowed men and shuffled through the tracks left by Allyandrah. When he felt he’d gone far enough, Kru’Nah turned around and, making a new set of tracks, walked back to the men still bowed low to the ground.
“You may rise,” Kru’Nah said, channeling all his frustration and disdain at the events of the past few minutes on the small group of men in front of him.
Slowly the group of men arose, none daring to look directly at Kru’Nah.
“Why are you you here?” Kru’Nah finally asked, staring down Commander Tra’Khil.
“We have been tasked with finding you,” Commander Tra’Khil said.
“Am I lost?” Kru’Nah challenged, his anger rising along with his voice. “Am I lost without my knowledge? Does an unlost man need finding?”
“No, sire,” Commander Tra’Khil replied, his voice slightly uneven betraying his discomfort. “The queen believed you to be lost or kidnapped, so we were commanded to find you, excuse me sire, to search you out.”
Kru’Nah laughed a cruel laugh, his mother’s laugh. “Who exactly would kidnap me?”
Commander Tra’Khil continued to stand perfectly still even though Kru’Nah was sure he was sweating in his suit. Mentally, Kru’Nah commended Tra’Khil for his composure.
“Sire, we were not given such information.”
“Not officially. I’m no idiot, I know there are many unofficial lines of communication. Why are you here?” Kru’Nah tried to clasp his heavily mittened hands behind his back, but they would not grip each other, so he simply held them there.
A slight shift from Tra’Khil. Kru’Nah smiled to himself. He had won.
“Sire, it’s believed that it has something to do with the slave girl.” Tra’Khil tried to keep his voice steady, but the bitterness of the resignation of such information was evident.
“My mother believes a slave girl kidnapped me?” Kru’Nah knew a response was unnecessary with such a ridiculous question and notion. If he was lucky, it would put them off searching any further for Allyandrah. Royalty certainly had its perks at times, even if it meant dealing with his mother. He screwed up his face in annoyance at the thought of her.
“Sire, shall we return to the outpost before the squall hits?”
“What squall?” Kru’Nah asked with concern, his thoughts turning back to Allyandrah.
“A squall is coming in from the west, sire. We’ll be lucky to reach the outpost before it does.”
Looking up at the brightening sky, Kru’Nah could also read the signs of the incoming weather. He and Allyndrah had been fools to not see them. Holding out his hand in the direction from which the men had come, and away from Allyandra’s tracks, he indicated to move. The men obediently turned and walked away. Kru’Nah resisted the impulse to glance behind him one last time, even with all their backs turned to him. He couldn’t afford to make the slightest mistake now.
Allyandrah had to stop running. Her lungs burned and she was drenched in sweat. The sun was now high in the sky. She must have been running for hours. The terror she’d felt as she left her dearest Kru’Nah behind had now faded to deep regret and sorrow. She should have trusted him to keep her alive. Slaves, however, were unaccustomed to trust.
As she looked around, a strange wrinkle the smooth snow caught her eye. Glancing behind her, for what reason she didn’t quite know, she set out toward the wrinkle. She had nowhere to hide out in the open. Her love was once again lost to her and this time it was her fault. What did she really have to lose?
As she approached, she saw the wrinkle was not a wrinkle at all, but some kind of house, blending in almost perfectly with the surroundings. As she approached, a fur-clothed figure stepped out. Allyandrah spread her arms out wide and knelt down in the snow, bowing her head. She tried to listen for the approaching footsteps.
“Who goes there?” A voice called out instead. It was old and weary.
Allyandrah looked up to see that the figure hadn’t moved at all. “A banished slave,” she called back.
The figure stood still for several minutes, clearly trying to make a decision. “Alright, come in,” it finally called back.
Allyandrah couldn’t believe her luck. She quickly stood. Her body was rapidly growing cold with her lack of movement and she nearly ran to the door. She was completely unprepared for what waited inside.
As she stepped in, she was greeted by a stuffed Hornothol bear. The giant bears were white and had claws the length of Allyandrah’s hands. She took several steps back and stumbled into the door, causing her host to burst into laughter.
“It’s dead, love.” Allyandrah finally recognized her host as an old man. “Come, let’s get these clothes off of you before you roast to death.” He helped Allyandrah out of her furs and out of her soaked underclothes.
“What are you doing getting yourself so wet! You’d have died out there tonight!” He shook his head incredulously at her.
“I was chased,” Allyandrah said noncommittally.
“Well, that would do it.” The man’s hair had long since turned white and his skin was old, but it was clearly iridescent. Who was he?
“Come, don’t stand naked by the front door, you’ll die of cold here too. Let’s get you some clothes.” He shuffled away and Allyandrah followed obediently, unbothered by her naked condition. As a slave, she was used to it.
He found her some thick, warm clothes, which she gratefully pulled on. He then led her into a sitting room and offered her some hot tea and dried meat. Allyandrah ate greedily, even as she tried to restrain herself. There was something about him that gave her permission to be greedy, but what it was she couldn’t quite tell.
“So now,” he began. “Tell me why you’re really out here.”
Allyandrah’s eyes grew large and she choked a little on the food in her mouth.
“I’m not going to hurt you, slave. That much I promise, otherwise I wouldn’t have shared so much precious food with you,” his eye twinkled as he smiled at her. “I’m just a lonely old man who would like to hear a good story. I think a story of how a slave made it this far north ought to be quite a good one.”
Allyandrah took a deep breath and cleared her throat. She started by telling him that she was a slave of the queen, how she’d met Kru’Nah, the tale of him saving her from the forest fire, how he’d persuaded her to come north, then followed her, and finished by sharing how they’d been tracked and found and her running away.
“I don’t know what they did to him.” Allyandrah dropped her head into her hands and began to sob uncontrollably. The old man rose and sat next to her, gathering her into his arms. She’d never known such tenderness and it caused her to sob even harder, an entire lifetime’s worth of hurt and pain rolled out of her in the arms of a complete stranger, her tears soaking his shirt.
At long last, her sobs subsided and she simply lay in his arms as he stroked her hair.
“Well, then,” he spoke up a while later. “We should figure out how to get you back with my grandson.”
The story of Allyandrah and Kru’Nah continues.
The prompt is: It’s winter. There is a thick blanket of fresh snow on the ground. A lone set of tracks leads away in the snow.
Read Part 1.
Allyandrah sat, unable to believe her luck. How had she been pardoned by the queen? Her only task was to leave the kingdom and never return. Her heart ached at the thought of leaving Kru’Nah behind, but she must. After all, he was the prince and who was she? Only a lowly Kjelger slave.
Even so, he had come to save her from the flames of the fire. He had shown up on his very own Grojodan to save her. She would never forget the feel of riding atop the marvelous stag, his horns stretching out wide, his body firm and sure underneath her. Sitting behind, she had clung to Kru’Nah with desperation as they fled, thankful for his taut muscles, his strong arm wrapped around her to help keep her on the beast.
The small fire in front of her crackled and spat resin from the burning Hornothol Needle tree. These were the only trees this far north. She had fled to the far north, hoping to survive. There were fewer threats in the north. It was hard to survive her and not enough reason for even the Hoomverdauns to visit. The short, stocky creatures were able to live anywhere, but even this cold was too much for their hairy bodies.
Allyandrah shivered, trying to decide what she would do now. She supposed she would need to make a shelter first. There was no point in trying to settle here without a shelter. Sighing, she thought there was no point in trying to settle here at all, but what else could she do?
The sky above was black and dark, the sparkle of stars pinpointing the blackness. Tonight, she would simply have to sit and keep her fire burning, her blood moving. In the morning, she would begin assembling her shelter.
Allyandrah tossed another branch on her fire, the wood slowly catching flame. The warmth radiated out and she huddled closer into herself, wrapping her body with the long fur cape Kru’Nah had sent with her. It was on his suggestion she had gone north. He had provided her with a pack of thick fur clothes and a stash of food. Despite the electricity sparking between the two and their aloneness, he maintained his regal dignity and kept his distance from her. His eyes told her another story, though, and it was to that story that she hung her hope.
Exhaustion began to take over and Allyandrah found her eyes closing, her head drooping. She fought the sleep as long and as hard as she could, but eventually, sleep won.
Several hours later, Allyandrah woke with a start. It was light and the fire had been buried in several inches of snow. She looked around trying to see what had woken her. Was it a sound? She pushed the oversized hood off her head, dumping snow off herself, revealing her cropped blue hair and blue skin. Scanning the horizon, Allyandrah searched for any sign of movement. Turning around, she saw a lone set of tracks from as far as she could see to as far as she could see, leading to the woods.
Standing up, Allyandrah pulled her hood back up and shook off the remaining snow. She was stiff from the cold and her heart hammered in fear, but she needed to know who, or what, was there. They looked like Kjelger footprints but she had to be sure. Who else would be up here?
Looking around again, she saw no movement. Quickly, she moved over to the tracks and then followed them precisely. The tracks went on, mile after mile. Fishing out some of the supplies from inside her coat, she munched on some food and scooped small handfuls of snow for water. She began to grow warm moving and she knew she needed to slow down even more. She couldn’t risk getting too warm and then dying when she got cold later. As she passed by the trees and closer to the mountains, she saw the tracks continue on and on. Looking at the sun dipping ever lower in the sky, she needed to make a decision. Either she would need to stop for the night again and sleep or she would need to figure out how to follow them by night. What if it snowed again?
Against her better judgment, Allyandrah continued on and picked up her pace. She continued to eat more of the food even though she knew she should ration it. She grew warm and began to sweat as she more and more recklessly followed the prints. Just as the sun reached the horizon, she came to the base of the foothills. The tracks curved sharply and suddenly to the east, around a tall rock spire. Slowing down, Allyandrah caught her breath and as silently as possible, followed the tracks in the quickly darkening sky. She was running out of time.
She then heard the crackling of a large fire and froze. It was someone, but who? What could she possibly do to defend herself? She had no weapons.
Looking at the rock spire, she saw the rough surface. There must be rocks under the snow. Quietly, she crept to the spire and dug under the snow. She silently rejoiced as she found a fist sized rock with one fairly smooth side and one jagged side. Cupping the smooth side in her hand and holding the jagged side out, she continued forward. As the darkness crept in, she began to see the light from the fire.
Steadying her breathing, she crouched down and peered around the edge. Just more rock. Slowly moving forward she reached the next semi-corner. A small cave loomed in front of her with a large fire. Someone was in it, watching the fire, clothed in fur skins just like hers.
Allyandrah crept back until she could just see the cave and knelt down, watching. Suddenly, the person in the cave looked out her direction. She sat completely still, hoping to blend into the rocks around her. The person walked out to the mouth of the cave and looked around before turning and heading back in.
Soon, Allyandrah began to shiver as her body cooled down. She had gotten too warm and sweated. There was no way that she would warm up now without the fire. Taking a deep and slow breath, she stood up and slowly approached the cave using as wide a berth as possible given the surrounding rocks, watching the movements of the person inside, who still seemed to be engrossed by the flames.
Using the large fire as a block between the two, Allyandrah crept to the mouth of the cave in a low crouch, still holding onto her rock weapon. The warmth from the fire reached out to her and caressed her frozen cheeks. It was time.
She stood and watched as the other caught her movement.
“Allyandrah? Is that you?”
Shocked, Allyandrah dropped her rock and backed out several steps. Could it be?
“Allyandrah?” He pulled down his hood, revealing his auburn hair and peachy iridescent skin.
“Kru’Nah? What are you doing here?” Allyandrah fairly shouted.
“What do you think?” Kru’Nah replied. “I am here for you!”
Allyandrah’s mind wouldn’t work. It simply went blank. There was no possible way that he would leave for her. It must be a trap.
“If you are here to kill me, I accept my punishment,” she said resolutely.
Kru’Nah rushed over and embraced her. Pulling back, he looked in her eyes, down into her very soul.
“I would never kill you. This is not a trap to punish a slave.” He backed off and raised his hands. “I swear. I am here on my own, of my own accord, without the blessing of my mother. She will hunt us. She will try to find us. She will try to kill us. She will not succeed because we will work together.”
“I knew it!” she cried. “I knew you loved me! I never doubted, I swear!”
“I know,” he said soothingly. “I know.”
Allyandrah’s excitement quickly was replaced by violent shivers as her body became colder and colder.
“We need to warm you up!” Kru’Nah cried. “I did not come all this way just to watch you freeze to death!”
Kru’Nah rushed Allyandrah into the cave and began stripping her of the clothes that encased her cold body. Peeling off his own outside layers, Kru’Nah helped her redress into his furs and pushed her as close to the fire as either dared.
He offered her some food to eat and hot tea that had been sitting near the fire. She gratefully and wordlessly gulped it all down.
“We must leave in the morning.” Kru’Nah said as Allyandrah ate. “I know which direction we must go. We have a guard stationed up here to the southwest, so we must move northeast, away from them. They patrol up here, which is how I knew about this cave. I was going to stay here the night and then try to find you.”
Allyandrah nodded in agreement, her eyes sparkling with hope realized. She knew. She just knew. Catching her eye, Kru’Nah smiled and took her hand.
“We will celebrate soon. For now, we must conserve our energy and survive,” he said tenderly.
“I will follow you to the ends of the world, my love,” Allyandrah declared.
Here is a short story I wrote for in my writer’s facebook group.
The prompt was to write a short story based on your favorite painting. I don’t actually have a favorite painting, so I just perused google images until I found one that spoke to me. This is the story.
This is the image.
Allyandrah paused for a moment. What was that sound?
The faint roaring was vaguely familiar but she couldn’t quite place it. Her heart began to beat faster as though it recognized the sound as a threat. She glanced up through the trees, the black bark reaching for the sky, which was obscured by the red leaves at the very tops of the trees. The ground was moist under her bare feet and she felt the continual shifting of the insects everywhere. She had long grown used to the pinches, burns, and bites of walking across the forest floor.
Looking behind her, Allyandrah continued to move toward her destination, the rich mushroom garden where the forest sank into a low bowl. She relished the change in smells from the spice-infused forest to the dank, wet, musty smell of the mushroom garden. The oppressive heat of the forest even lifted as she descended. Quickening her pace, Allyandrah passed by hundreds of trees, looking for the cluster of six that indicated where she should curve slightly south to find the mushrooms.
The roar slowly but inexorably grew louder as Allyandrah moved through the forest. Her heart still pounded and she considered abandoning her usual silent walking for the careless crashing of the Hoomverdauns. The short, stout creatures moved loudly through the forest always giving away their positions. Their hair grew coarse and wild and their eyes always seemed to match giving an air of instability recklessness.
The Kjelgers, like Allyandrah, were much more reserved in every aspect. Tall and slender, they moved silently and purposefully through the woods. All Kjelgers kept their hair cropped short to avoid getting tangled on anything in the forest. Only the queen grew her hair and it was tremendously luscious with its silky, auburn look against her smooth peachy, iridescent skin. Allyandrah could always see the contempt for her people written on the queen’s face and Allyandrah loathed being in the queen’s service. She had no choice, though. One does not refuse the queen and live. The queen especially despised the blue-skinned and blue-haired forest Kjelgers. Their tasks were always the hardest, most dangerous, longest lasting.
Remembering her task, Allyandrah began to run. She knew she was close to the trees now as the ground slowly began to incline. She could not quite place why she felt so panicked, but indeed she was. Her breathing had quickened and her body trembled slightly. Finally! The six trees, four fat and two slender in their unmistakable pattern. Veering south, Allyandrah suddenly noticed the forest creatures running in her direction. Stopping suddenly, she looked around. Every creature was moving north.
Then she saw it.
The red horizon. It shimmered even from so far away.
Turning to run with the animals, Allyandrah pushed her body as fast as it would go, trying to stay ahead of the flames. These trees burned quickly and easily and fire spread quickly. At least that’s what she had been told. In all her 89 years, she had never seen a forest fire, but her grandmother had. Allyandrah recalled the horror on the face of Gree-na as she told the tale of the last forest fire. It had wiped out the entire forest. Since then, Gree-na had been trying to plead to the queen to separate the sections of the forest so that should a fire ever start again, it would only burn part of it.
The roar now chased Allyandrah and she ran with the same terror as she could feel in all the forest creatures. She could feel the wind blowing through her cropped hair and her hands were a blur of blue in her peripheral vision. Weaving and dodging, she dared not glance behind her for fear of slowing down. It grew louder faster than Allyandrah could outpace it. The other creatures were faster than her and soon she found that she was being passed by all manner of creatures.
If only she was allowed to use Grojodans! The mighty, hooved beasts moved quickly and gracefully through the forest. No other creature came close to the majesty of the Grojodans. It was why the queen had captured them all for her own personal use. Tears began to stream from Allyandrah’s eyes as she realized her fate. There was no way she would be fast enough to leave the forest before she was burned alive. Still, she ran, her legs and lungs burning, refusing to give up.
She could now make out the crackling of the fire and not just its roar. She tried to push her body to run even faster. It must be right behind her if she can hear the crackling. Trying to keep her composure to maintain her breathing, Allyandrah pushed. She was by herself now, having been passed by all the forest creatures ahead of the fire. She felt terribly alone as she ran in terror.
Within moments, it was close enough for her to know that it was no hallucination. She knew that only one Kjelger could be atop. He commanded the majestic beast with a bit and some leather reins, his auburn hair and peachy, iridescent skin. He held out his arm as he approached.
“Kru’Nah?” Allyandrah cried out.
“No time! Hurry! Grab my arm!” Kru’Nah reached down as Allyandrah reached up. Pain seared through her shoulder as they grabbed and she was yanked up and back. He skillfully swung her around to be seated on the Grojodan behind him. She wrapped her good arm around his waist and clung tightly as the Grojodan turned sharply and began to run the other way. Allyandrah buried her head into the black silk shirt of Kru’Nah and squeezed her eyes shut. She would surely die now. The queen would never forgive this.
Allyandrah did not care anymore. Her love had come. He had saved her and she would happily and gracefully walk the stairs to the execution platform.
I’ve been trying to incorporate exercise and daily movement back into my routine of life and right now I’m going through Yoga Revolution over at Yoga with Adriene. The theme of Day 3 is honor who I am and where I’m at every day when I step onto the mat. Or just in life.
As I was going through the practice and she repeated that phrase over and over again, I really thought about who I am and where I am in life.
Recently, my friend Katie wrote a post about an interaction we had over text message. I was so blessed to read this post because after my second or third reply, I started to get this nagging feeling that I was annoying her. That I was bothering her and I needed to close down the conversation so that she could get back to things that weren’t, well, annoying. Like me.
You see, friends, this is where I am in life. I am constantly worried about annoying people. Let’s get some honest truth going on around here for a moment. I was ANNOYING as a kid. I was loud. I was energetic. I was obnoxious. I didn’t know when to quit or shut up. Oh Lord have mercy I was a handful. At least, that’s how I perceived myself. I suppose there are those around here who could probably speak to the accuracy of that statement, but I didn’t bother polling them yet again some random question.
I had a hard time making and keeping friends in school – in elementary, my closest friends always seemed to move away. In high school, I had friends, yes, but they were kind of strange friendships that ebbed and flowed and cycled and recycled. In college, I made some questionable friend choices. From ALL my years of schooling, I still talk to ONE person on a regular basis. A small handful of others on a very irregular basis. And maybe a large handful of still others with whom I connect on social media (which to say we’re facebook friends but very little if ANY interaction actually occurs).
This lack of solid friendships has led me to believe that I am in some manner defective, because I am the constant in ALL of these relationships, and that other people would rather be around or talk to pretty much anyone but me. I imagine people rolling their eyes when a text from me pops onto their phone. I hesitate calling people because they are probably doing something much more important than talking to me.
This is where I’m at, friends. So, to circle back around to Katie, to read that she was blessed by our conversation, that she was excited to engage in it, that it actually made a difference in her day was INCREDIBLE. It had never occurred to me that she might feel that way. That she might be glad someone is excited about a project she’s working on.
I struggle a fair bit with doubt. Maybe this is normal. Maybe it isn’t. I doubt all kinds of things about myself. I have a hard time seeing the good things. I easily beat myself up over and over and over again about the bad stuff.
I don’t want to be like that anymore.
I used to think I needed to be someone else to be acceptable. If only I was Megan or Kristin or Ashlee or Kelly or Alli or Rachel or Anna or Jeney or Katie or Nicole or Kari – if only I was one of THEM instead of me, then people would like me. I spent a long time, years, imagining being someone else. Trying to be someone else. Never wanting to actually be me. Never really stopping to see who I was, what I liked, what made me special and unique, what made me likable. Never realizing that I was special or likable.
It’s only recently that I’ve begun to give myself a little credit and start exploring and EMBRACING what makes me unique. What makes me me. I’m finally embracing my love of yarn crafts, of writing, of running, of reading, of connecting in a meaningful way with others. I have a gift of encouragement. I LOVE to see others succeed in their quests and journeys and goals. I LOVE helping to encourage them along. I love reminding them that yes, someone else cares about it too.
So stopping for a moment for another really honest moment. It’s been a real challenge to be an encourager because I always feel like I’m being an annoyance. Can you smell what I’m stepping in here?
God has been doing a real work in me lately to help shed some of these lies, to help me understand myself better. To give myself more grace. To see me as I really am and not as the twisted mess I see myself as. I have seriously spent so many years just surrendering to these demons, not even trying to fight them, that I cannot see myself clearly. I see my achievements as noteworthy and cool, but not who. I. am. Without those notches on my belt, who am I? What am I? Is there anything special about me at all?
Over the weekend, I tried very hard to honor myself – who I am and where I’m at in life. Instead of beating myself up, I tried to give myself some grace, to try to see some positivity.
Can you relate? At all?
Friends, it is high time we start seeing ourselves clearly. It is high time I start seeing MYSELF clearly. I only peel back one layer at a time, but I need to start working on those layers. I have to stop believing the lies that who I am as a person isn’t enough. I have to start seeing my hobbies as things I enjoy instead of things that give me worth.
I already have worth. As a human. As a child of God. I need NOTHING else to give me worth. To give me value. My worth, my value, just as a human, cannot be measured. It wouldn’t matter if I’d never done a thing in my entire life. My worth and value would still be far beyond measure.
It’s time we start seeing ourselves and living our lives in light of this truth.
Did this resonate with you today? Leave a note of encouragement below or hop on over to facebook and join in the discussion! Thank you for stopping by!
(Image from the internet – I don’t know how to source images yet…)
Since the conception and inception of this blog, I have not really had a plan for it. I’ve had a dream of creating a community where people share life together, but no plan of how to do that. So for a year or so, I have been writing, blogging, sharing in random intervals with no real guiding direction or overarching plan. No road map.
That is pretty much how I live my whole – no real plan, just taking things as they come and trying to work it out. I have values that guide me, but no real plan. Anybody with an ounce of common sense will say that isn’t a great or successful way to live life. (I know!) It sure makes me susceptible to the currents of the world, being tossed about in life like a wave in the sea (see James 1). I married a planner though, so it still works for me. Thank God for my husband. Seriously. Thank you.
Also, as many of you know, I am in the process of writing a few fiction novels. The beauty of writing novels is I can just sit and write (the term is ‘pantsing’) without planning. It’s how my brain works. It’s the beauty of the revision process. I don’t NEED a plan to write a story. However, if my goal is to create a real-life community, ‘no plan’ doesn’t cut it. I can’t pants my way into an online community. It has to be intentional. On purpose. Planned.
So, this is PART of my plan. The only part I know about right now anyway.
Step 1: Figure out how to create a community
How do I create a space where people share part of their lives with each other? A place where a quick button click doesn’t ever feel like enough. Where one is prompted to engage, to type words, to share. Perhaps I need to engage more with those who already read my blog. Perhaps I need to start there and begin to not only read but comment on the blogs of others? I feel like “I don’t have time” for that, but if it’s important, we make time, right? Just like reading. Just like writing. Just like yoga.
I think you get the picture.
For now, I am going to commit to reading and commenting more on the blogs of people around me already (that includes you guys! yay!). I’m not sure how good I’ll be or how often I’ll manage reading, but I’m going to give it a try anyway.
Step 2: Figure out how to connect my blog with my facebook page in a meaningful way.
How do I generate conversation, invite discussion, share life? I don’t really know how to do that yet, but I think I might have a trick or two up my sleeve. And they aren’t gimmicks. I want to engage with some thought provoking questions, perhaps. Or…other…things… that get people to talk. Clearly I have research to do. Perhaps questions that relate to whatever I’ve written lately. Or something interesting I read of someone else’s. I don’t know. Something.
Maybe this will work. Maybe it won’t. Maybe everyone has all the community they’re looking for.
But then again, maybe they don’t.
Maybe someone is looking for a community where he can reach out and others reach back. Maybe someone could use a little more positivity in her life.
I know that I’m no Rachel Martin or Becky Thompson or Jen Hatmaker, but I don’t need to be. I. Don’t. Need. To. Be (repeating for my benefit, not yours). Even so, we can still have community together. It can still be meaningful.
So friends, are you game? Are you up for taking a little journey together? Are you up for seeing where this goes and what happens?
I am. I hope you are too. I am really looking forward to what this next step will look like.
So, if you haven’t already, hop on over to facebook and check it out over there. I’m going to try to have some interesting questions next week that will relate to the post I hope to have up on Monday. It’s in my head, just not written down yet.