Have you felt the terrifying vulnerability that breeds from your confusion of purpose?
Yes?
Then, I urge you to stop, read this article, and listen to your inner voice.
Wait!
I know what you are thinking. Tell me something new, I have heard this advice before.
Hear me out—this time it is different.
Acknowledge the subtle vibrations that steam from your environment and listen to that other voice within. Try to ignore the loud voice that communicates with you on a minute-by-minute basis, scrutinising and examining your actions.
Push to the side the powerful voice that criticises you, punishes you and tells you that you are not good enough. Appreciate, and then hush— listen to the calm voice that keeps you balanced and makes you feel grounded.
Pay attention. You will recognise it when you hear it. It’s the quietest yet most sincere voice of all and it can be awakened by the strangest of stimulants. The key is to simply trust its guidance.
‘Tell me, quiet, inner voice, what is my purpose?’ Here is my story.
I listen, intensely. I sit in silence and feel the world around me. It already knows who I am; it is waiting for me to play catch-up. It encourages me to hear, to speak and to do something insanely creative.
I am entangled with this thought. Thinking. Considering it all and searching for a meaning. Analysing, evaluating and interpreting—this is what I do. Such unsettling is a place of familiarity for me. I regularly dip in and out of real time and ponder the meaning of it all.
What am I to do with my life?
My cycle of thoughts never reach conclusion. I wander and then repeat—my creative yet disordered mind is both my acquaintance and my adversary, equally.
I see something flicker on the edge of my vision and, in an instant, my meditative trance is broken. I giggle and shake my head dismissively when I discover what has distracted me—the writing cursor on my laptop screen is blinking at me. I squint and look at it inquisitively, tilting my head in puzzlement.
I ask myself, “What is it doing?” It is strangely hypnotic.
I keep staring. I can feel it coaxing me to begin. But begin what? I ask my enchanter what she wants from me—there is, of course, no reply but the flashing continues. That cursor is taunting me. I close my laptop and impede the unsettling spell.
Life continues but I still see that flicker; I feel it.
It beats within my brain like an electrical current of creativity. Its rhythm is in-tune with my heart. My soul—the conductor—synchronises the mesmerizing melody and like the Pied Piper, it urges me to follow its call. It wants me to open my laptop and start typing.
I can’t understand why. I am not a writer. I haven’t trained for this; I did not study language or attend creative writing classes. I can’t spell and my grammar is questionable. I am on the dyslexic spectrum and, sometimes, I make up my own words. I protest and internally decide: I am not your girl.
With this wave of authority I feel strangely empty. My inspirational energy is spilling everywhere and I am hemorrhaging creativity. I feel faint. In a panic, my mind starts grasping for a lifeline. Then from a random thought, I remember that wonderful notion of universal uniqueness.
There is only one me within this entire universe and I have a unique talent to share with the world.
Stunned with the magnitude of this thought I am left speechless. There is a cleansing silence. That is when I hear it—the quiet and sincere voice. It leans in, brings me close and whispers, “Be you and tell your story.”
I open my laptop and start to type.
This is the beginning of my journey; I wonder where it will take me.
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Author: Donna MacLellan
Apprentice Editor: Melissa Horton / Editor: Renée Picard
Photo: Provided by author, used with permission
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