Write What Your Heart Wants Your Head to Have Read

I relax into the task of writing. My hands, arms, and shoulders accept the responsibility of transferring mental impulses to words that are aligned with the heart.

It’s the process that needs to be processed. There is value in the light that pours through these fingerprints.

The name of the game is slightly changed, though, which I need to digest. It’s an issue of authenticity.

This is my 28th article on Medium. I just passed the one-quarter mark on the way to my first 100 articles. I also passed the 100 subscriber threshold, applied, and was accepted to the Medium partner program.

This Thanksgiving, 2022, marks the beginning of my monetization journey with Medium. These two factors — growing article count, and monetization — bring new challenges to my craft.

I’m not just writing for fun anymore, flirting with the possibility of earning income. Now I’m writing for a living.

Now I’m writing for my family’s well-being.

The pressure to perform overruns my chirotic tendencies. The poison arrow in my mythological leg seeks to sabotage my joy.

“The pressure is too much!” says my mind to no one listening.

I listen through the noise of my mental chatterbox for voices that effervesce from the archives of my ancestral memory. I ask them for concrete wisdom to show votes of confidence.

My mind dodges stray arrows chiseled with, “release points” on the shafts, as they whiz by. The alcohol stays behind the closed cupboard door. Numerous other escape hatches drown themselves out in their sameness.

“What is there left to write about? Isn’t someone else going to write it? There are lots of other people getting recognized this way on Medium. Why is anyone going to read your mental shit-batter?”

My brain throws out flack to sabotage my passion into imposter syndrome.

“Ssshhhhh.” My heart interjects.

“No, but how do I keep this going? 10, 20, 25 pieces published. 50 is forever and a hundred is ‘forget-about-it’.”

“Ssshhhhh.” My heart repeats itself. Unfueled and unsupported, my mental temper tantrum settles.

My mind tunes out of the dissectable world, with its Trees of Knowledge. The mind knows everything except presence.

The Tree of Life knows only presence.

I listen. And grow into my calm.

Presence knows only trust. Trust becomes the path.

Blood from my heart reaches my brain and delivers an oxygenated message: “Write what your heart wants your head to have read.”

What I voice declares my choice, but what I write makes it real.

“Write what your heart wants your head to have read.” The words pour out of the popped air bubble that floated from my heart up to my mind. In fact, this is the only way to give your audience something they can’t get from someone else.

The more I live in my heart, the less I worry about the beans to be counted.

The more I live in my mind, the more I live in lack and do stupid things that waste resources, like gambling my family’s financial cushion away in cryptocurrency scams.

But, there is only love and sacred partnership.

The Tree of Life loves the process. Especially the process of recovering yourself from the world of Knowledge. Stay with the process and go one step at a time.

Slow is the new fast. Calm is my new calling.

Remember that Success is your Soul, not your goal.Remember that no amount of money will make you feel safe.Remember that Mastering Peace is your true Masterpiece.

Will you write from your head or from your heart?

Meet the author, Joshua Blatman

Hi!

I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this piece about my take on the astrology for the new moon on November 23, 2022.

I am an Earth school student and teacher, family man, musician, survivor, healer, and psychonaut. I’ve traveled to 45+ states and I’ve lived on 5 continents, and now I’m raising my family in my hometown.

Follow me for more content on my primary socials: Twitter and LinkedIn.

The rest of my links can be found here.

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