I have this idea that if I weren’t a writer, I would be a healer. Lots of juicy woo-woo stuff, like aromatherapy, herbalism, maybe some crystal energy work and the list goes on. I have always been interested in natural therapies, and have some self-healing practices and blends I have developed just for myself.

I could picture myself having a house with a little consulting room in the front, where I would work one-on-one with clients.  Next door would be my study where I would write my books and articles, and life would be complete. Two passions, two purposes, and lots of good vibes to go around. The income from my clinical work would supplement my writing income, and I would be helping people and being true to myself.

This week though, two different people made me re-think this plan. I have been contemplating the state of my marriage and my future, wondering what my next step will be (you can read more about it on my other blog).  My good friend Eve said to me that my purpose in life is to reach people through my writing, and that if I stay in the miserable situation I am in I will be depriving the world of that. And when I told my dad about an aromatherapy course I was interested in, and he said that that was not my path; that I was here to heal people through my writing.

Two people who have never met each other said the same thing in the same week. My path is clear to them both. I should say that they are both intuitive healers themselves, although neither would describe themselves that way. I can’t tell you how powerful their words were, and how much I needed to hear their clear, outside perspectives.

I know I have things to say and give through my writing. And I also know that I cannot write what I want to write in the state I am in. My writing has been treading water, as have I. My memoir sits unfinished; my research project into the spiritual underpinnings of binging and other self harm is not yet started. The novel I started, not to mention all my other novel ideas, is untouched. I blog every now and then, and I write for work, but my soul’s true work is nowhere to be seen.

The changes I am about to make in my life are about getting back in touch with myself. Finding my lost spirit and creativity. Getting out in nature. Living the life I always dreamed of living – in the country, as a writer, surrounded by trees and mountains and my very own vegetable garden. These changes are happening. It is time to move on and to get back to me. For too long I have been trying to make myself fit into a box that I thought would make me happy, when in fact what will make me happy is just being myself.

If I can help people through my writing, that is fantastic. Right now, I know that I will at least be helping myself, which is more than enough of a reason to do it.

posted by Kelly
Filed under: Inspiration, My brand new writing career