I’ve often heard authors tell of taking all their anger about an errant husband, bad divorce, back-stabbing friend and writing a really good book. Theraputic beyond measure to torture and knock off the nasty character in a nasty way. Saves loads of expense for a therapist.
And, yes, I’ve gotten rid of some of my resentment of a few people in my books. For example, the writer who made a snarky remark about my not being a Southern woman or writer, as I was from Oklahoma. I dealt with that bit of stupidity nicely in Chin Up, Honey, and it gave me oh, so much satisfaction. (No, I’m not telling the woman’s name. Funny, I’ve clean forgotten her name, but not her expression of distain. If she’d been in rain, she would have drowned.)
But my point, and I do have one, is that writing is a cure for a myriad of ills.
This morning I was having a very tough time getting going. The day was before me, and I could not apply myself to anything, much less writing. I suddenly had a vision of myself, and saw black birds of worry fluttering around my head. I realized that I could not imagine anything but my worries.
I got my journal and made a list of the worries. You know it only came to four that seemed pressing, and they were all about the same thing–losses that I was afraid might happen. I do not know if they will happen. I was projecting the worst. That is the thing about a writer– we’re very adept at envisioning catastrophe.
The very nice result of writing down my worries, though, was I could see the error in my thinking, was made aware that I could just as well turn to expectation of good, and even make a list of these scenarios. Then I gave it all up to God, “Here you go. I can’t handle any of these situations but You can, thank you very much.”
I’ve been writing like a house afire ever since.
Re-starting the day out right…
Dear God, today when I worry, let me give my worries to You, and focus on the beauty of this day. I have so much precious and beautiful around me today. I will not cloud my vision of it by fears of tomorrow. Just for today, I will live unafraid. Amen. So it is.
Blessings,
CurtissAnn
Curtiss Ann Matlock 
I am a worrier too and this is great advice! Write through it…
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HOORAY CurtissAnn,
As Maya Angelou so aptly put it, “AGAIN, I RISE!”
ps — I didn’t get to my post about my ride on I-40, but it is the next one coming either today or tomorrow.
I used to drive I-40 alot between Hickory NC & Mocksville, when we lived and had businesses there. I so enjoyed the book — read into the middle of the night as you will see when I tell my story.
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That woman was wrong about you not being a Southern woman. “Southern” is a state of mind, and I’ve read enough of your posts and books to know that you are indeed a “Southern woman”. So bless her little heart, that woman just didn’t know what she was talking about.
About the worries, I am a worrier, too. I’m still trying to completely come to terms with that self imposed worrying. I try to start each day by saying “OK God, please help me to understand that I am NOT in control, but YOU are.”
Hope you have a worry-free weekend! (Hugs)
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When is your birthday? You sound a lot like me — I’m a worrier, also. My mother was a worrier. Is it hereditary? When I get worried about something and can’t seem to let it go, I go dig in the dirt. Your mind clears and the worries are gone, for a while anyway!!
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