Thursday, January 5, 2012

Achilles' Heel

I’m nervous. Very.
Where is my confidence? Where did it go? I swear it was just here a second ago. Or was I just mesmerized by its silhouette? I am at the point of my life where I am standing on my tippy-toes, knees bent, ready to leap in the deep sea of writing, and release my first book, Snow Angels. A memoir of my life. A mystery of God’s power and mercy. A true story of my boyfriend’s battle against brain cancer. What a risk, huh?
Who am I kidding? Can I really do this? Who would really do this? These questions are circling through my brain It’s only a matter of time when I ….
My book, Snow Angels, is my baby. It encompasses the recipe of two souls conjoining together. Creating a masterpiece. A work of art that I am truthfully terrified of liberating to the public. Don't get it twisted. This book means so much to me. Each chapter embraces a special ambiance of the recollection of my memories within the last years.
But my question is why I am so nervous? Am I really that dangerously in love with my book that it would leave me feeling so weak and insecure in expressing my true feelings to the world? I wonder if every writer goes through this phase when preparing to give birth to their new sculpture of words. Since July 2011, I have carved the ins and outs of the earliest forms of my novel. I documented those special moments and private prayers that Reginald and I clinched upon and they have manifested into the existence of my book characters, Aubry and Charles and their unconditional love.
According to Oprah, “Whatever you fear most has no power; it is your fear that has the power.” Maybe I just need to get over it, face my fear and let go. Release.

I need to.
I need to show the world that cancer is NOT a death sentence. I need to show the world that love can transpire in people that you would lease expect it. I need to show the world my testimony of what God can do for His people. Cancer handpicks its “victims”. But God always fight back. And win.
Perhaps, I am not nervous. Maybe I am just darn selfish. Whatever it is, I am determined to break up with my love and give the world a piece of my heart. Regardless, I need to learn that I must focus my innermost energies on lessening any constraints that I may face so that I can feel that inconceivable sagacity of power and confidence that bestows before me.
I must validate myself. I am not weak. I am a writer. And thee author of Snow Angels. Be prepared to witness.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Little Girl

As a little girl, I daydreamed endlessly on how my life would become in the future. By no means had I ever thought that I would be a writer. I forever believed that I would be a doctor. I remember one Christmas, my father gave me a doctor play kit. I'm sure he’d wished he saved the receipt because I demanded his tiresome presence in my office almost every day after work. As my fascinations with remedies ripened, I became determined to be a “baby doctor.”

I never thought that I would want to be a writer. As age 5, I was tested; I could ready exceptionally fast at such a young age. And comprehend what I have read. Little did I know, words were conquering my soul. As I continue to grow, my love for writing did. But it was disguised. I pretended to dread assignments that involved essays, hiding my true passion away from the other kids. In the 6th grade, the entire class was assigned a story to write that was due at the end of every single month. And every single month, I received an A+. My stories were wild and enchanting. Who knew such a young mind could construct such enchantment. So rich. So delicious. Every single word was mine. But the thought of being a writer was disposed quickly...

I still wanted to be doctor. Until I was asked to join the student newspaper in high school, my life changed. My fellow classmates treasured the tang of my words. I was simply happy. And I still am. (Honestly, my medical days were demolished when my gross advanced science class visited The University of Michigan and I was THE ONLY ONE who was seconds from passing out unto the marbled floors while reviewing cadavers. Disgusting. The doctors made me sit outside for the remainder of the field trip. Sad.) That dream flew away anxiously and died.

Today, I feel every touch of my words. And I hope that the world does too. I am interested to see where my writing takes me. Writing erases the pain that my mind witnesses; my words hug me when I am lonely. The scars will always be there. But musing always helps bring cheerfulness and glitzy glee into my life. I may not be a doctor, but I hope to heal my readers with my words. Hence, the birth of my first book, Snow Angels. Will you witness? Stay tuned.

Monday, January 2, 2012

New Year: Same Me

Oh, 2012,
Unlike most folks, there is not going to be a "new me."
I adore the old me. Matter of fact, I will always be me. My life is just starting to unfold. Not too shabby.
Sure, laces of changes will be sewed in the dotted lines of my life along with stitches of restoration. But I love who I am. The year 2011 helped me discover the woman I am and I pray that this new year welcomes me with the most scrumptious bundles of life lessons.
Ringing in the new year with The Honey, I ultimately realized that I've found the rest of my life. I strongly believe that there is no need to be a "new Tammy". Why should I do that? I plan to continue to live my life to the best of my ability unashamedly. Continue to listen to the fanciful whispers of my Savior. Continue to kiss the knotty past goodbye. Continue to allow my fears to fly away as I walk through the wilderness. Continue to forgive myself in upcoming wrecks of calamity. Continue to practice my writing and building the courage to tell the world my stories. I promise, they are worth waiting for. And essentially, I will continue to believe in the magic of true love, no matter how crazy how it sounds. Most of all, I will continue to give myself away to my awesome God.
See, there is no reason to change. I am just fine.
Truly Tammy J.