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Monday, February 17, 2014

What was I born to do?

I have tried many jobs. From a gas station clerk, to a Computer Maintenance Management Specialist, to Graphic Designer, a Painter, a Web Designer, and back to "What am I meant to really do?". I have often felt lost in a whirlwind of what I want to be. I know I have a purpose in life, I am 42, and I really want to find that purpose. I don't want to live other peoples ideals of life and wealth, I want to live my own and I want to feel it and be it all on my own.

I have been searching for the tools to help me. Over the years I have struggled. Being a mom has also been a hard challenge. I often felt lost, yet complete with my children, if that makes any sense at all. I love my children, but the simple fact that I have lost myself over the years taking care of them and their needs, doesn't help me to love completely - I have forgotten to take care of me. I will admit I have become resentful of the fact I had been dealt the hand of cards given to me for my life, it hasn't been a pretty life starting out. I thought I had so much more to give and do. I still do. I am not ready to give up and die, not just yet. Although, I have come from the brink of just wanting to do that, but it was being on that ledge that helped me see I want so much more. Life is beautiful outside the doors, just have to take those steps to see it.

I have a plan. And I want to share it with others too. Kind of like a pay it forward, I want to help others so that they too will help others, its not fun being in such a rut in life that each day all you think of is how to even start moving forward in the right direction. I need guidance. I need reassurance I am doing it right. I want to provide a start for me and for others. And I will. I know I was born to share and give, I have also been blessed as an artist and want to use that blessing.

Now, how to use it to bring that feeling I want in life, happiness, accomplishment, love, belonging. I can do this and so can you.

Taking it one day at a time....

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