Posted: January 11, 2011 in Motivation

I have this intention to tell great stories to an audience. The intention is so strong that I find myself often walking the line between frustration and disappointment. I have so many ideas flooding my mind on a daily basis that I get easily agitated because I cannot dump everything on the page.

I feel heated inside when I write something that I’m meant to share with others. Whom those others are I don’t know, but I believe these people will find me at the time in their life when we are meant to cross paths.

Sometimes my arms tingle with energy and I become nearly explosive with enthusiasm. Once, after writing a poem I jumped out of my chair, clapped my hands and sat back down to write more. If you know me, you know this is a rare action of excitement since I’m not considered very excitable.

When I was in the second grade, my family was so poor that to this day I have anxiety if my stomach rumbles with hunger. I only had two outfits and my mom tried to mismatch them to look like more, but everyone knew and they teased me as often as possible.

One day my mom came home with a used maroon dress jacket for me to wear on cooler days. It was more feminine than I preferred since I was a tomboy, but I welcomed the change. I remember thinking that I looked like a business lady. That day as I sat at my desk I started dreaming of all the moments where I would speak to hundreds of people and I imagined other kids reading about me in textbooks. I often had these kinds of thoughts, but never before had I felt as if they were achievable until that day.

As a result, I decided I needed to wear my jacket everyday and when I got home, I told my mother I won class president of the second grade. I told her this because I was afraid she would not let me wear the jacket on a daily basis. If I convinced her that I had to look nice as president then I could justify the fib.

I wanted to stay warm on the inside. I wanted her to believe in me as I did in myself. I wanted to prove to her that I could change our world, and bring in more money than we could ever imagine. All of this because I just felt powerless, yet there was that burning to do something great that I didn’t understand.

My mother acted proud of me as I assume most mothers would and then the next day she discussed my presidency with the teacher, which felt humiliating. However, I soon realized that with or without the jacket I still felt the same way.

There is something great that I am meant to do with my voice. I just do not know how to define great or where it will lead me exactly, but I expect to burn.

If you feel warmth when you write, or draw, or bake, or sing, or snap a photo then embrace the feeling. Define your intent and let it lead you to the place where you believe your warmth will turn to fire.


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