Today was a good day.
Monday is now down for the count!
Four days left until the weekend.
Inspiration struck me late last night.
In an aspiring writer’s world, when this happens it is advisable that you take out the little notepad in the drawer of your nightstand and start scribbling.
But I was so close to being asleep that I opted to make a silent promise to myself instead.
“If I remember this moment in the morning then it was meant to be and I will seriously devote some conscious thought to further developing the idea.”
Wouldn’t you know? The first thing on my mind when I woke up this morning was the brainstorm of inspiration I had as I fell asleep the night before.
The inspiration of what this bright idea could mean for my future was just the positivity I needed to battle the ‘Monday blues’. Nothing could bring me down with a future that looks so promising.
Granted the weather was crappy all weekend (and has now spilled over into the week). It was cold, rainy and gloomy. The atmosphere felt like a complimentary valet service for each and every contagion present during the cold/flu season. My body and head ached. And for some reason I felt especially heartbroken. I have no idea where memories of my estranged spouse decided to come from. But I guess that’s what happens when you allow depression to take its toll on you. Your mind begins to betray you to thoughts that you promised yourself you’d bury forever.
90s and early 2000s R&B and soul were the soundtrack to my stranger than fiction life. With my earbuds in, I allowed myself to retreat from the congested subway station and sulk. Hundreds of people huddled close, with their damp clothing and dripping wet umbrellas failed to interrupt my intense thoughts of mourning.
I mourned the love lost in the devastation of my failed marriage.
I mourned what I thought being normal would mean to me.
I grieved my 20s. For the years I’ve lost to the onset of bipolar depression. For the ideal my mind imagined being a young 20-something year old would look like.
I clutched my coat and struggled with my umbrella as I transferred from the subway to the city bus, and then again once I arrived at my stop and walked home.
I felt the weight of depression resting on my chest as I lay in bed late last night.
I began to panic. I feared it would get too out of hand far too soon. “I don’t think I can handle this on my own.”
I began to think that moving to Korea was a huge mistake.
Then something happened.
I flipped the light switch and crawled into bed.
Engulfed by literal and figurative darkness as I meditated on the life I was grieving and all I’d hope it would be, it happened.
The ah-ha moment!
The lightbulb came on.
In all of its brightness, it lulled me to sleep.
Dreams filled with ambitions of a life no longer ruled by depression, outlandish manic episodes, heartbreak, persistent headaches and chronic widespread joint pain overcame me. I felt encouraged to keep going. I felt reassured that this experience cannot be for naught.
The takeaway from my ah-ha moment:
Once my time here in Korea concludes, I will not return to the U.S. the same person I was when I left. I was not created to be normal. I was fashioned to be especially extraordinary. Why should living my dreams stop with a brief stint abroad?
I am going to start my own business.
No more giving my life away to mediocrity. No more sitting back as a watch my talent go to waste. No more turning a death ear to my gifts BEGGING to be acknowledged and nurtured. No more emotional, psychological masochism. I was slowly committing spiritual suicide. Not anymore!
I am going to be my own boss.
I will build my own brand!
The universe has heard my request.
Now it is only a matter of time before it all comes to fruition.
Don’t ever be too afraid or ashamed to ask the universe to help you make your dreams come true!
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