February 28, 2013

For awhile now, at my writer’s groups, I’ve been told that I’m redundant.  I repeat the same thing over and over, just saying it in a different way.

And I know this about myself.  I know I do this verbally and I have been cutting back at that cause I see how it drains my energy.

I’ve been noticing it lately with emails to my students.  They will ask me the same question over and over again — I will over explain / or rather TYPE – since I know what they are asking and I don’t want the emails back and forth so much, so to save time I do that — yet, some still don’t get it and keep asking.  They don’t read the email.  Who knows what.  So I end up typing it out twice or maybe three times, the same damn thing — and then even talking to them in person/phone with them again.  What an incredible waste of time.  It annoys me.

But here now, in the written word, I am seeing it or rather hearing it over and over from some of my writing friends.  “You’re redundant”

And just yesterday it clicked.  I got sad.  Before I accepted this was the way I did things, but yesterday I realized why.

It’s because of my parents – my family.  No one ever listened to what I said.  So I had to keep saying it and saying it over and over again.  This no doubt exhausted me throughout — forever.  Just think of how much energy you use doing this??

And I knew this with the talking aspect of things… but these last few days I was noticing it with emails… and then it clicked with my writing my story.  THE WRITTEN WORD.

There’s that pattern as well.

So part of me feels bad that this has been effecting my writing… my gift… my livelihood… but then the other part of me sees the beauty, because Spirit does this through me as well, it repeats things… so I’m not necessarily changing this in my writing, because sometimes I do believe that — well actually – I know that Spirit does write through me — but I do see how sometimes people need to hear (or READ) things over and over again to get it.  For it to sink in.

So now it’s just a matter of wondering, how much of this is my wounding, and unnecessary?  And how much of this is Spirit — and this is just relating to my writing now… and this is what I wonder.  Along with being sad, that this is how this wounding was effecting my writing as well, my profession, my gift.  I feel very protective and honored for my gift of writing and I think that’s the reason why it makes me sadder.