The Journey Back to Myself

Every path has led to this time, to this space, right now, right here.

The end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started. — T. S. Eliot

I have walked a twisted and uneven road for most of my life. I ran into dead ends more times than can be counted. I scoured a cliff face once, and a couple of mountains stood in my path. My feet tread streets of pain and avenues of love. Does this sound familiar?

However, every passage has led to this time, to this space, right now, right here, sitting at my computer — writing.

Pouring out my soul for you to see.

It is a difficult thing because writing is not easy for me.

I may sit all day in front of my computer reading, writing, and learning, health permitting.

From idea, research, first draft, editing, choosing an image, posting hyper-links, checking hyper-links, read out loud, final draft, and marketing takes about two days for me.

What am I missing here? Why does it take so long for me? It can be pretty overwhelming and defeating.

However, I will never let that monster called defeat stand in my way!

When faced with obstacles that loom large in front of me, I will find an alternate route.

I go around, over, under, and sometimes, right through my opponent. I will never give up! It is in my DNA.

My mother assured me that I was the most stubborn and hard-headed child she ever met. It served me well, though, because I see problems as opportunities.

The opportunity to fail. Yes. Failure is the best teacher I ever had. I can reset my plans to achieve a goal, the second time around.

I reconsider my strategy and how to implement it. For example, I submitted an article four times to my editor before she accepted it. I adapted to her specifications.

The ability to achieve my goals helped me to become a first-generation college graduate.

I went back to school in my 30s after my divorce from my first husband. I carried the responsibility of five children alone, with no family support and no friends. I felt like nothing,

But, instead of drowning my sorrows, I gathered my composure and made a plan.

I wrote down my goals on paper, in books, in the bathroom, in my bedroom, on sticky notes, in my mind, on my heart, and anywhere in between!

I will graduate from college in 1992!

My notes had drawings of a stick figure in a cap and gown, jumping up and down for joy.

I spoke my goal, I thought my goal, I felt my goal.

Meanwhile, my plan evolved to include tasks and steps. Every paper completed or class passed was a victory. I was driven to succeed.

Now, I have come back full circle.

Eleven years ago, I became physically disabled and had to leave a career in Social Services only to become a recipient of those services. You see, non-profits have little to no retirement plan. Medical bills ate up what savings I did have.

For a decade, I gave up and fell into a pit of despair. Then, out of nowhere, Light broke through the darkness. I know I am being cliché, but I cannot help it.

I began to write and write; I did. Morning, noon, and night. It may be one word a minute or an hour, but I did not stop.

Reading and learning to write better is also a part of my journey. And my writing has improved. I think.

Considering, until four months ago, I had no writing experience other than writing papers in college.

However, I am putting in the work.

I know I am not an accomplished writer, yet.

I am honest and bearing my soul to help someone else, maybe even you. That is my calling and vision to help others live the life they desire to live, one word and deed at a time.

However, people often say, “I’m not going to listen to her. What does she know?” My looks and demeanor fool a lot of folks.

Let’s back up, and I will explain. You see, I lived a double life for eighteen years. I was helping others in the day and helping myself to drugs at night.

After all those years of misery, I finally climbed the mountain called addiction in 2008 and had an encounter that transformed my life. I did a one-eighty, and Love reached out to me. I became a new creation.

Even though my spirit was newly created, I struggled with my emotions and depression. As do we all.

Remember the day Light broke through my darkness? I was meditating about my purpose in this new life. A thought entered my mind, You have two hands, and you can speak. What the heck does that mean? I realized a second later — I can write, and I can talk.

Okay. I can talk through my fingers. Therefore, I started writing.

Now, I can write about all the crazy and dangerous things that come with an addicted lifestyle. I can also write about joy and pain, sorrow and love, and everything in between.

Writing has changed my life. It has given me a purpose. The same can happen to you.

I have been granted a second chance — to be of service to others through my writing — and I will not waste it.

Want my 4-Step Action Plan to create a vision for your life?

Debbie Walker is a great-grandmother, blogger, and writer with a BA in Psychology. Her vision is to help others live the life they desire to live…one word at a time. Visit her at [email protected].