Almost every word in the previous sentence is difficult for me to embrace.
...my own voice
...my prerogative (just cuz you can spell it don't mean you can DO it.)
As someone who has been in the field of higher education since the mid-80s, I predicate my life around the semester system. During summer break--five to eleven weeks long-- I always make it a point to engage in an activity for my own personal growth. Last year I attended the Mendocino Coast Writers Conference. Three writer friends and I rented a cool house in Fort Bragg and lived the idyllic writer's life of walking to workshops a quarter mile away, immersing ourselves in the process out in fresh air, feasting communally on simple but healthy food brought in to the campus where we wrote. And in the evening, claiming a corner in our house, we drafted out the inspirations of that day's sessions.
This summer my growth project was more inspired by the yoga/qi gong practice that I have been doing for almost ten years. I did a 21-day purification (cleanse).
But before that, something had happened which in a way made the cleanse a kind of emotional one as well. After having worked on a manuscript project for over one year, the collaboration turned toxic. I didn't see it coming but then all of a sudden...
I will not mention this again. I will only tell you that the disappointment caused a level of dis-ease that literally made me ill.
This occurrence confirmed the perfect moment to start my 21-days.
I completed it in a lot of solitude and silence. The point is, I took an action. And that's how it relates back to the writing. And to truth.