The last time, we talked. I was trapped in a room within my house. My constant campaigns were a humidifier and air purifier. Quickly, my bedroom became boring even though I had a television. I watched movie and read books. In the past, they had been a wonderful way to spend my time. Now, I found myself becoming quickly bored of the constant diet of them. My mind craved for something different. What? What could I do when I couldn’t speak a word or leave my new friends.

In real estate, I was constantly on the go physically and I had to use my mind daily. You are always thinking about how you are going to sell someone’s house or help a buyer find their dream house. With nothing to think about, I was lost. This was a new feeling and it left me frustrated and panicky. What if I never get my voice back?

Years ago, I met a woman who had lost her voice and all she could do was whisper. It was something permanent with her. The thought seemed to torment me. Would I become like her? I needed to think about something else. But what?

It was nice to see my children. I’m a mother of six. They were all adults at this time so I was really left me to myself. My oldest son didn’t live too far from me and he would stop by often on his way home from work to see how I was doing. It surprised him to find me one day in my office with my air purifier and humidifier. It took work to move everything back and worth.

He wondered, what could I possibly being doing in there? I couldn’t use the phone and I had no email address. Quickly, he started to pressure me into divulging my activities. Successfully, I sidestepped them.  I didn’t want to tell him why I was there. It embarrassed me to tell him that I was writing a story. I started to dread him stopping by. I was having fun and I didn’t want my newly created world to be shattered by him telling me that I couldn’t do it.

I would like to take you back to why I decided to move my friends into my office.  After a couple of day in my bedroom, I decided to move into my office, looking for something to keep me from going stir crazy. It was worth the work of moving everything, if I could find something to entertain my mind that would allow me to avoid my thoughts. The woman I talked about earlier had permanently lost her voice and could never speak above a soft whisper. I remember her story was surrounded by a mysterious illness. My situation was so unique it reminded me of her.  It concerned that I would end up like her?

I wanted to do something that would help me not think about her. So I moved into my office finding nothing that I could do without my voice. Shortly after being in my office, an idea came to me. What if I could write a story? Immediately, I went into a panicked state. The thought had triggered my past emotional pain. (If you want to know why I had a fear to write, you can read about it my book, How to Rebuild Shattered Dreams.)

The panicked feeling dissipated when I promised to never allow anyone to read it. Secluded in my office, I felt protected and the story seemed to ward off my negative thoughts. Little did I know that I was about to embark on the most fantastic journey. It was beyond anything I had ever imagined.

I had no clue that I was a creative person and my mind was starved to be one. Since, I had never allowed myself to ever think or do anything with writing. I used to make fun at being a writer. My favorite phrase was, “Why write it when a picture could replace a thousands words.” If it weren’t for this experience, I would’ve never discovered a hidden talent, love and passion for something that I had thought to be unattainable.

One thing, I did years ago before this experience. I took some classes on how the mind worked. We learned that our thoughts are always vibrating and moving. This is why sometime, we can be talking with someone and we both get the same idea or thought at the same time. We both happened to latch onto the same vibration as the thought. So our minds had the same thought.

I wanted to be a receiver of a new thought.  Today, I needed it to be a story. So I asked my mind to connect with a wavelength of one and bring it to me. Being a mediating state, I kept my mind clear, waiting for something to happen. How long I sat there, I do not know. I just sat there until it happened.

“Time Out, I hate time Out.” The words started to flow into my mind and I immediately started to type them into the computer. The story changed my life and I dearly love it. This post is getting long. So I’ll continue the story in part 3. If you want to keep up or start from the beginning of my journey to becoming an author. You can subscribe to my email update; you’ll receive the previous post and the future ones.