Why Don't You Just Do it?

On my last day at the job that I’ve had for almost five years, I found myself doing a guided meditation courtesy of one of the speakers that I had helped secured for the biggest event of my time there. My current employer laid me off, but had given me six weeks to find a new job, an ample amount of time, for which I’m thankful for.

But as I was sitting there, H. Soul’s soothing voice came over the headset amidst a tranquil mixture of nature sounds, and his guided breathing helped me to relax. It wasn’t easy. It was my event, meaning that I had to make sure that everything went as smoothly as possible. I had a lot of help from my co-workers, but the burden of responsibility fell on my shoulders and it was hard to shake off, even for those 15 minutes of meditation. I struggled to find some inner peace, but I got there.

“Think back to a time when you were young, when you were really happy,” Soul said.

Immediately, I was transported back to Havana. More than anything, I thought of the days that I spent carefree and reading Jules Verne’s books. There was that haze through which we see memory from, like a light leak from a camera, but I saw myself as an 8-year-old devouring The Mysterious Island or From the Earth to the Moon. I was there, and for a moment I felt peace.

My love for literature and writing started young and it’s a passion that I still carry with me. As I attempted to stay in that memory, in that warm feeling, I inevitably began to think about my life and how my dreams of becoming an author haven’t materialized. I was disconnected from the serenity of the past and met with a harsh reality of the present.

I’ve sent my memoir to over 50 agents and haven’t landed one yet. Three asked to read more, but eventually decided to pass on my manuscript. It’s frustrating and disheartening, and it often makes me question my abilities. It often makes me think, “Who am I to think that people even want to hear my story?”

I’m not giving up, though. But I want to recapture some of that magic I felt when I was a kid. I want to feel free to write stories that may be silly for the literary world that I want to be a part of, but that will make me happy.

When I told an abbreviated version of this story to Jackie and my kids over dinner a few nights ago, my seven-year-old daughter, Penny, said to me in her silly and sassy tone, “Bro, why don’t you just do it? Just write.”

I could have done without the “bro,” but Penny was right.

I think sometimes we complicate the simple. We put up barriers that are mainly self-created or imposed.

I can’t control whether or not an agent or a publisher finds my manuscript interesting, but I can certainly write for the love of writing. I can even attempt self-publishing, maybe even serializing that future book or novel here.

Have you ever felt this way?

By the way, I did find a new job and I start tomorrow, October 1st.

Thanks for reading.

Left to Right: Me, Ballet Folklorico Director, Veronica, Mike (the Mayor), ballet members, Dr. Perez (City Manager), Chris Vallejo (Chief of Police)