Today, I've slept in, woken with a headache and am feeling cranky and angry.
Last night, I received my third rejection letter in two weeks, letters in response to creative projects I created and submitted funding requests for. I am emotionally depleted, deflated and exhausted. I'm trying not to take these letters personally or to give them any more space than they deserve beyond my feelings of disappointment.
Still, the weariness at having my ideas knocked down and judged as not valuable (my interpretation) nags at the back of my heart, rapping to come in and set up shop. I've got a dresser, two chairs and a bed wedged up against its knocking, in an attempt to keep this burdening emotion out. I feeling battered and bruised and wonder how I'll make it as a writer if my skin is so thin and my heart so tender.
When I'm disappointed in situations, in other people or in myself, my tendency is to tuck in and to become very internal, very Self'ish. I suppose that this is how I lick my wounds. Today, my muse and I rest at home, trying to recover our balance.
I'm grateful for the rain that pours all day long, and for the grey sky that matches my mood, so I'm not the least bit tempted to step out of this dark cloak and in to something light... I'll save that for tomorrow, while today, I brood.
Last night, I received my third rejection letter in two weeks, letters in response to creative projects I created and submitted funding requests for. I am emotionally depleted, deflated and exhausted. I'm trying not to take these letters personally or to give them any more space than they deserve beyond my feelings of disappointment.
Still, the weariness at having my ideas knocked down and judged as not valuable (my interpretation) nags at the back of my heart, rapping to come in and set up shop. I've got a dresser, two chairs and a bed wedged up against its knocking, in an attempt to keep this burdening emotion out. I feeling battered and bruised and wonder how I'll make it as a writer if my skin is so thin and my heart so tender.
When I'm disappointed in situations, in other people or in myself, my tendency is to tuck in and to become very internal, very Self'ish. I suppose that this is how I lick my wounds. Today, my muse and I rest at home, trying to recover our balance.
I'm grateful for the rain that pours all day long, and for the grey sky that matches my mood, so I'm not the least bit tempted to step out of this dark cloak and in to something light... I'll save that for tomorrow, while today, I brood.
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