The rules of life of this brave aspie and INFJ

I am in love with him,

yes,

and yet…

I am also in love with my self.

I’ve created words that I repeat everyday, in the morning, at night, or whenever I stop.

I tell to my ancient-self that those words are my daily prayer to connect with God, or the Universe.

I explain to my kid-self that those words are a magic spell that chase away fear.

I convince my middle-age self that those linguistically correct words reshape the neurons of my brain,

and yet…

they are just words,

and I am just a writer.

A writer who’s in love with words, with herself, with her kids, with her boyfriend, and with her world.

These words are my rules of life:

I place ourselves in the hands of Goddess

the Goddess who loves us infinitely and unconditionally

the Goddess who is crazy about us, and only wants the best for us.

I do that by:

living life slowly

following my intuition

keeping my identity

enforcing boundaries

and minding money, to stay safe.

This is how I remember that, even though there’s so much out of my control, “the odds are in my favor” because Goddess only wants the best for us.

But … there’s a catch.

She’ll take care of us IF, and only IF, I follow these rules. Why? Because by following these rules I love myself. By doing so, I’ll have enough love in me, to be able to love others.

And wasn’t it to experience love that Goddess put us in this planet in the first place?

Sharpening my skills

I’m taking two virtual courses to gain confidence in my writing skills, and therefore be able to apply for freelance jobs as a content writer  (the creative writing diploma that I have, focuses in literary writing only). Aren’t I already a digital content writer? Yes, I am, but I only work for myself, and I want to work for others, too

The way I’ve been writing all these years is similar to a cook who loves to experiment with ingredients and comes up with different meals. She thinks of herself like a culinary artist, and invites her family and friends to delight in her masterpieces. But economic pressures force her to apply for a job as a cook, so she needs to sharpen her meal-preparing skills.

She’s learning about all these new things, but she can’t help making up new recipes that maybe only a few people will savor. I am like that cook. I’m excited about this new era of my life, but I can’t wait to come back to my blogs and write whatever the bleep I want. Here’s where my soul feels at home.