Numbers and Beliefs

I have this weird relationship with numbers. I’ve always notice them, and am frequently disturbed by certain patterns in my day to day life. Often, I see the numbers 11:11.

Recently I have been noticing a lot of the number four. In my Instagram, on my clocks, the amount of times things happen, etc. So I decided to look it up. I love to look everything up.

According to random Internet research, seeing the sequence 444 (what I saw this morning) is a reassurance from my guardian angels that everything is as it should be in life. I should have nothing to fear, and my endeavours will be successful. This is a positive suggestion, so I’ll take it!

Even if following this idea seems hokey, I feel that everything is connected somehow, and I am always on the lookout for messages. I believe everything has a reason, and a purpose. A part of me believes in everything.

Well, not everything, but you know what I mean.

Did I tell you I started reading a textbook about major religions of the world? Maybe I will figure it out after that, but I doubt it. I long ago invented my own belief system, so it’s probably too eclectic to fit anything definable. I’ll let you know if I learn anything conclusive.

Although there aren’t a lot of firm beliefs that I hold when it comes to spiritual/religious thought, there are a few:

1. Be kind, as much as you are able. Apologize immediately if you were not. Having a bad day is never an excuse to be aggressive.

2. Never purposely injure a living thing, either physically or emotionally. All living things are sacred. Keep lies to a minimum. Do not be manipulative.

3. Cultivate self awareness. This will help you to practice kindness. Have morals.

4. It doesn’t matter what god you believe in, or if you go to church.

Reasons being:

i. If there is a god (or gods), he probably has no name (he might not even be male) and you won’t know him until you die (maybe not even then), and he doesn’t have a name (words and names are man-made), so it doesn’t actually matter if you call him Jesus or Allah, or whatever. He/she/it is probably laughing in your face at your presumptuousness and crying about all the wars that are caused from this pettiness.

The fact is that humans often think that they can know what it is to be something or someone outside of themselves, but this is wishful thinking. We cannot really know anything which is outside of our own being. We can relate to our friends and family, we can love them, but to know is to be. You would have to be God to know God. And as none of us is a god, or God him/her/itself, then this pretending to know is exactly this. Pretending. So if you believe in “God” it doesn’t matter what name he goes by.

ii. Churches aren’t bad, but they aren’t special either. If you believe in something, it comes from the heart, not some building or shrine or anything man-made. Let’s face it, materialism is everywhere. Just ask yourself this: if all the churches in the world burned down, would God be dead? Sorry, I don’t buy into the “if you don’t go to church you’re a bad person” crap.

5. Life is too complex to come from nowhere. Therefore, there is likely a Higher Being, or energy force who designed us. Everything is causal.

Well, beliefs are pretty important, and extremely subjective. If you’re going to follow me and eventually read some of my writings, then you can think of it as background information. As you’ll notice, my writing is pretty randomized, and often contradictory (from story to story). So I just want you to know where I’m coming from. I think my writing will reflect that.

I’ve decided to allow myself to share a bit of writing here on WordPress, however hesitantly. It seems only fair, since writing is on my hit list this year, and since the purpose of this blog is to practice writing in general. Sharing. I am learning to share.

Oddly, I like to write a lot about that which I don’t understand, such as violence and meanness in general. I mean, I sort of understand it, from the receiving end, but it’s hard to imagine actually being mean myself, you know? I am not a mean person, and will never be. But I am fascinated by it, and anything that is not what I am about. In order to understand people, I try to become them. So forgive me if my fiction is frequently less than pretty. It can be pretty grim.

But then so can life. I want to understand life.And I think, in a way, that writing is the perfect medium to explore that with.

But I also love the beautiful. There is so much beauty in the world, as long as you don’t read the newspaper. To be avoided at all costs. Or mostly.

Newbie Writing Challenges

It’s not about generating ideas, because I grow those out of my ears like there’s no tomorrow.

It’s not about forming sentences or developing a dialogue with my characters.

It’s not even about character formation, or creating a setting.

I am okay with (and comfortable with all) of that, however intermediate it may be. For me, as a newbie writer, my biggest challenge is figuring out story length.

Sigh. Story length. I think I mentioned in a previous post that I’m working at writer’s block by wetting my feet in microfiction (think 100-500 words) So why is it so difficult, since I’ve limited myself to so few words?

I don’t think it’s the “fewness” that’s the problem here. I love brevity. The problem is me and my overthinking.

Say I’ve hypothetically written a scene, a short 100 words. I want it to be a drabble. I penned my last word. But the possibilities of literally anything happening to my character are there. Not there on the page, but there, in my head.

In my brain (beloved brain), I am creating. Not just am, but have created an entire lifetime for this character in a matter of minutes. And in a matter of seconds, I realize with horror, that it cannot end. It can never end!

My dude, or my girl, is sitting on the proverbial end of the line, hoping I will carry on the tale so they aren’t frozen in time. Hoping he/she is rescued, finds his/her love, grows up, and realizes all of the things that never happened because they only suffered through 100 (or 300) words of existence.

They don’t want to stop living.

Add to that the fact that there are often several future scenes to my short story, and I would need a choose-your-own-adventure to satisfy myself (and my characters).

It sounds funny but it is also kind of distressing. I just want to finish my story in peace, without wondering if it should be made into something longer. When will they leave me alone?

Is this a short fiction problem, or is it every writer’s problem? I keep telling myself that I’m not a novelist but the fact that it happens to me all the time seems to suggest otherwise. Of course, I’m not ready for that.

Baby steps.

Blogging Is Scary

Ok. I am going to stop beating myself up now about what to write. Blogging is almost like talking to myself anyway, isn’t it? So let’s treat it as such.

Dear Diary *ahem*fellow humans,

Today was okay. By that, I mean the weather. Despite the ongoing rain, it was a balmy 6 degrees Celsius which, in Toronto, is the January equivalent to a summer’s day. And yet, I spent the whole day inside, reading and browsing my apps like an idiot. So much for that walk that was planned. Honestly, I went nowhere.

On the plus side, a small amount of writing did get done. This was due in part to feeling guilty about my overall uselessness today, and the realization that no stories have been written since my spontaneous blogging venture began.

I surprised myself with a supernatural story or section of one (I haven’t decided yet), which just sort of made its appearance after doing some reading. About 280 words or so, it’s about a girl who fights an evil force field in the middle of nowhere and finds herself alive but missing a part of herself. I left her lying in a field in a state of confused despair.

It’s interesting but really strange for me, as it’s not my style, and because I was reading about indigenous religions and decided to use that as a writing prompt, it’s even stranger!

But that is me. My ideas don’t always follow from logic, or even from abstract association. Just go with the flow.

My Intentions

Well, it has been very short time since I wrote my first blog post, and since then…Well, I hope it’s OK that I don’t really have a defined intention or direction where I would like this blog to go. But I do hope that it somehow encourages other people too be less fearful about trying new things and trying to be more authentic. I’m hoping to share my journey and even though I don’t know exactly how blogs should be written or what a blog even is necessarily, I just want to make my story real through written form.

In this way, I can become more accountable for my own writing and for my own creativity. I prefer not to have my thoughts known, but have discovered that sharing myself has this effect on me where I feel not necessarily a responsibility to please others, but more of a push within myself to become more consistent with my habits and to be less lazy about the things that I want to accomplish. So maybe that’s what this is about. Perseverance. Having something (or someone) to answer to.

And combatting my Achilles heel.

Enter microfiction. A good start for someone who isn’t used to getting anything done. I am hoping to get a booklet done this year, as well as dabbling in some poetry and creative nonfiction. These are my goals.

Numerology Year 4 in 2020

Happy New Year to anyone reading this blog post (my first ever!).

Yesterday I was looking up my 2020 outlook (I am an Aries Rooster, Numerology number 6, MBTI INFJ-T and Enneagram 2 person. There, you should know all about me now) and discovered that I am in for a potentially turbulent but creatively fruitful year. Apparently the Rat is lucky for Rooster types (1981).

Maybe it’s because years 2017-19 were so crappy, or because I am on a roll with re/self discovery (a snowball effect from last year) but the word turbulent must have scared me. Because now I have a WordPress account. Ack! And I am determined to make this year a success.

Last year was pretty successful in that I started two public Instagram accounts to quell my fears of existence (me, my art, my music) and it has been a good experience for me. Enough that anxiety levels are reduced to the fact that I can talk myself out of them.

This year, however, I am pushing the envelope (however much I dislike that term) and have decided to write everyday. I am writing. I am a writer (I think)! Fyi, I have had writer’s block since I was 20, so this is a stretch, a really huge step for me. Go me, do what you’ve always wanted to do, be the change!

For the record, I have a huge fear of people, and being judged, and even being known. I am pretty much the textbook version of Performance Anxiety. Also Social Anxiety. The only two people I am comfortable with in all honesty, is my mom and my boyfriend. So here’s to conquering fears (my life goal, my greatest goal) by talking about myself, to strangers, online, and in a totally honest way. Holy sh*t! I only hope I will never meet you, because I would die!