I guess I should talk about the wall that seems to keep me from putting words on paper.

The best way to describe this wall is like a blob...multicolored and multidimensional, and it keeps moving in any direction I try to aim my thoughts. It reminds me a massive hungry monster, that gobbles infant thoughts that try to venture out of my head.

I am undisciplined and wavering. I have few impulses of creativity, and the older I become the sparser my creativity becomes. I am dry and dispassionate. I buy journals and all sorts of tools that I could use to instill and inspire creative urges, but little happens.

I used to daydream, and with those dreams, I was always the heroine. I always wanted more, and the stories I created were unrealistic substitutions for the life I actually lived. I  was always looking for a life I could never have, and as a result, did not appreciate and live the life I had.

In real life, I was a mom with four beautiful kids, and the time I had with them was so short. Many things I do not remember, because I spent so much time wishing and daydreaming.

Now those days are past, and I find I miss them. I could have done so much more with the opportunities I had, but I squandered them.

However, it does not change anything to mourn the past. I can wish and wish. Just like I wanted my future to be different when I was young, wishing my past was different now is a bigger waste. I have to get over wanting what  is never to be or was. I have to stop my regrets, and live the life that God wants.