My publisher says I should develop the habit of writing every day. "Write something," she says, "even if it's only a paragraph." But there are so many things I'm supposed to do every day: eat vegetables, take vitamins, exercise, bathe and floss my teeth, to name a few. I understand the importance of developing positive habits, and I've heard it takes six weeks of consistent repetition for an activity to become a habit. So, here I am, trying to write a blog every day, whether or not I feel inspired.
My father has been on my mind lately . . . not that I miss him, but it occurs to me he may have been inadvertently responsible for my need to write.
Dad was a man of low self-worth. This characteristic manifested itself in criticism of others. He was under the deluded impression that he could elevate himself by putting others down. As a child, I was timid about expressing my opinions. I was afraid of incurring Dad's harsh criticism. So, I kept my thoughts to myself. I watched silently as other family members were subjected to his vitriolic comments. At an early age, I made the unconscious decision to remain outside the sphere of his anger and negativity.
After a lifetime of pretense and avoidance, I've found a means, through writing, of expressing my deepest longings. So, I guess I should say, "Thanks, Dad. You succeeded in influencing me, despite my best efforts."
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