NaNoWriMo

I love testing my mettle, or, indeed, my mental metal. I used to despise games without competitors, for where was the comparison? Where was the proof that my motivation and dedication might succede beyond that of my fellows? Truly, I say fellows, and not opposition, or opponents, or "the enemy players", for that is what I intend. Only recently have I discovered the greatest opponent I have is myself. How can I become a better follower of Christ? With Christ's help against myself. How will my writing improve? Practice against my apathy or busyness. How can I be, in my day-to-day, a better person? I must model and remodel myself in the likeness of Yeshua.

It is these battles which captivate me, for they are timed. And I either lose, or I must set rules that allow victory. Consider an instance. Let's say you are addicted to a drug - morphine or something. As part of the scenario, you must carry a quantity of the drug with you at all times, and it must be accessible at any juncture for immediate use. How long can you pit yourself against that, when everything within rages to utilize that resource? This is an extreme example, but the idea is simple enough: if the ability to fail is consistently tempting you, like cookies you are not supposed to eat, sitting on your desk all day, how long can you hold out? These are the trials of the self. Motivation to avoid lying, to avoid pride, to avoid anger, and bitterness and cynicism and perniciousness. These tools lay at your disposal all the time. Motivating the self to not only avoid them, but actively seek good things - reading scripture, growing in faith, praying, loving, honesty. It is a titanic battle waged within. 

Then there are external battles as well. Motivation regarding writing and journaling and maintaining a social life throughout all these things when November comes around. This is my current skirmish. I know I'm about to disappear from the social sphere. I won't have as much time for journaling, for blogging, for writing poetry, for reading everything, for friends, for anything except novel writing and the extra writing I've assigned myself. It's a bit intimidating. It's time.

I'm frightened, sitting in the middle of perfect possibility

~Jane Kenyon

My spirit battles storming waves

drifting long at sea

Aqua eyes the catalyst

On a night smelling of jasmine tea

and snowflakes

Warmth in blankets, lamps alight

Pens inked and prepped
I write

This next month is going to pick up steam. I'm fighting the balancing act of novel writing, poetry writing, reading, friends, and work. Let the games begin.