Writer's Block: Fear

With how difficult it has been to power through my hesitations and hang ups toward completing the last few sections of my book and seriously searching for a publisher, I started to wonder if the lack of insight or motivation from my dreams regarding my work on the book should finally be acknowledged as a sign of either disapproval or irrelevance of my ideas. I know expanding the current framework of our understanding of imaginary beings and presences, and for the field of psychology, what constitutes as an imaginary companion is a worth while idea to put into the world. But I won't deny the appeal of its sellability and my hope to make my own money through my writing with the book. It is still a selfish thing. Really my concern is that I haven't executed the topic clear enough or interestingly enough. What if I can't defend/sell it to a publisher? What if not enough people buy it for me to even make a profit and begin a writing career? What if my other ideas are too far out there that no one will receive them? Am I delaying because I keep fearing that it will be a moot point soon if the veil falls (aka, humanity's ability to communicate with thought is restored and deceit can no longer pervade, as well as our ability to transcend back into free-movement through time and space on the )? Rather, our spiritual guardians finally land to help us clean up our mess! WHAT am I talking about? Even if that is to come soon, there will need to be a catalyst for it? Quite honestly, I am catastrophizing. I delay because I fear the Earth will enter into its next phase toward an ice age. Catastrophic weather will lay waste to America and Europe and those who survive will be so overwhelmed with just trying to survive the shift to foraging and escaping and mourning to be bothered with my little book.

My dedication to tracking and researching for my dreams should give me clue enough that maybe I would be happier working for a dream research institute? So I indulged in that thought into sleep.

The dream that night had other plans.


Night of August 2nd/3rd 2013

I'm a prisoner among other female prisoners. My beloved elementary teacher is our warden, organizing a talent showcase. Inmates are partnered up and must perform a prepared piece of any nature to the rest of the group. Except, I (again) somehow forgot to plan and prepare. I am panicked as each pair performs their bit and our turn draws closer and closer. I didn't memorize my lines. There is a consequence for those who are not ready, but I don't know what it is. Someone from another team tells me she wants to just request doing it tomorrow, but I tell her she will be labeled undependable and lacking courage when we need to prove ourselves. I knew full well I should take my own advice. I was hoping we were far enough down the list that today's class would end and the rest would have to perform tomorrow. Turned out we were only finishing the first hour and had only half as many people to go. No way our turn would be missed.

The other acts weren't particularly special:  a pop song and dance number, a dry one act from a play. But at least they had something. I could do better if I had been aware enough to have prepared out act ahead of time. We had to think fast. Could I trust my luck at being able to improvise a decent scene? A sliver of faith in everything turning out alright glimmered beneathe my panic.

Our names are called. I tell my partner we will just do her idea of shopping at the grocery store. She is grabbing some props of dishes and foods. Just before we go on, an idea strikes me. I tell her before she goes to her place "I got it! After you ring me up, come home and pretend like you knew me all along. I will handle the rest." The idea was that she was a cashier and I a shopper and it looked like nothing more than a simple enactment of that. I went home, then she came home at the end of her shift to the dinner I made, kisses me, and is welcomed home. I summarize with one line "Even adults can play pretend." It was brilliant and simple, sending the message that adults use play to enjoy their relationships, just like children, and that play shouldn't decrease as we get older. Our teacher approached me, having been suspect of whether I had prepared something or not. She was surprised that I indeed had prepared (though I hadn't), and felt my simple message was unique and profound for a prison play.

That is a core concept of my book on imaginary companions. We are prisoners in this reality for schooling purposes, and though my preparations were not deliberate for purpose of , I had the depth of ideas already built into my consciousness. In other words, the preparations I needed to pass these tests of displaying something about who I am are being assembled into my spirit bodies already. My conviction of the above message is setup already in my soul. Now I can choose to help verify that idea into others. I would be giving strength to something readers would attach to easily because they already know it to be true, but not have an imagery or regular practice in it for it to stick in their spirits. I get anxious about things I should trust are already imprinted and accessible in my consciousness if I just calm down and let the information or memory I am seeking for to be received.

I need to generate a new image of why I should complete this book and what its impact will be. Whatever preconceived notions I have will affect how I perform both during the writing process and when I sell the book to an agent, editor, and publisher. What is real now for me is that I have a lot of debt, and a lot of ideas that need money behind them to propel them into the public forum. My book reaching a wide audience could contribute to... well, their spiritual salvation. Damn that sounds arrogant. I just want to help. I want reform. So I need to be a voice for it.

I could certainly work with a dream research institute in the future.

It will be amazing data to see how my dreams change after my book is finally out there and receiving feedback. 

Today's work day advice to self:  Keep it simple. Change your perception of who you are writing to. Not someone critical and dumb, but someone curious and unfamiliar with the topics. Teach, don't preach. Write with the excitement of sharing in conversation.