Yesterday was not a day I wanted to spend by myself. I didn’t want to be around random people. I just wanted to be with that person who makes me feel safe. It didn’t happen, but that’s what I wanted.
I needed to go purchase some things for my biggest and most important project. I wasn’t sure where I needed to start. I know what I see but making others understand what I need, well that is not so easy.
I was going to one neighboring town and something in my gut told me to go another direction. I have learned to listen when this happens because someone beside me is doing the talking. You may call them muses, you may think they are angel whispers, you may consider it fate. Whatever you want to call it doesn’t matter to me. I just know for me personally, I had better listen.
So I am driving to the store I planned to start with. I am listening to the radio. A Kenny Chesney song is playing on the radio, the wind is blowing through my hair and this song kinda makes me think of myself.
I have been experiencing a good bit of stress in my life (family and work issues) and trying not to worry those around me, I have just kinda closed off. Not what I should do, but it is what I do. I am not on social media much at the moment for I am pretty sure people don’t really want to know what is on my mind.
I keep moving and checking. I hide a way in my fantasy world and write about those things I long for. I plan new projects. I work on list for items I need for existing in progress projects. I work on those projects. I work and I walk. I deal, basically.
So as I am driving a road I didn’t plan on being on I thought about the “BIG PROJECT”….I have been thinking and planning this project for a long time. I have been working toward it.
It is the key to my freedom from the most stressful thing I am dealing with right now.
I have been marking time.
If you have ever been in a marching band, you know what this phrase means.
I go back in my mind (we won’t say how many years) to my flag corp days.
When those drum majors call you to attention, one hand was gripping the flag pole at you waist, the other came across your chest, gripped the flag and your chin was held high. Your eyes were straight forward and you never took your eyes off the person in front of you.
After you were called to attention, the drum major would belt our “1,2,3,4, Mark time, Mark!!!” Once you heard that “ONE” your right heel should be coming up off the ground.
One you heard that last “Mark”, your left foot should be coming up off the ground because the next sound you would hear would be a boom of a bass drum starting cadence. On that drum beat, you would begin your march.
Marking time is preparing to move forward. The last little while, I have been doing just that.
It is now time for me to move forward. My trip yesterday, was that step forward. I have to put time on task. I have to hold myself accountable for my dreams. They are after all, my dreams. I have to figure it out. Not totally alone. I ask for help, the final decision is ultimately mine.
I am not happy in a current situation. I have worked so hard at making others happy, or at least their version of happy, that I have made myself miserable. Not good for me. It is wearing me down, my body, my soul and my spirit have all taken the brunt of others littleness. I however, allowed it.
So is in my best interest to move my dream forward. I thought about downsizing it but I have to be true to my vision.
When I got to the store, I told the nice folks there what I needed. Two blank stares later, I got a person who didn’t give me that look. He couldn’t find what I needed so he handed me off to someone else who might be able to help me.
Before our conversation was over, I had something to try, which didn’t work, that’s okay. That is part of the learning process, try, fail, try again. And a lead on where I can help people who need to hear my story in a way that only I can tell it.
I now know why I had to go the direction I did. I may understand why I needed, not wanted, but needed to go alone. I needed a chance to go back and realize that the drum beat for my dream had just started the march, and I am no longer just marking time.