The Great Gatsby Personal Narrative
Foreword
“You are where your thoughts have brought you;
You will be where your thoughts take you. ”
James Allen
My commute to work, a 2 hours drive from Philadelphia to New York, had become as draining as my marriage to a gambling addict. While driving my mind often drifted off to a place where the mindless go. This appeared to be another day in which I mechanically went through the motions, just another day of losing a slice of my soul.
My sons were happily married and cleaving to their wives, just as they should. My grandchildren were beautiful and full of untamed energy that was exhausting to be around. While they all seemed to be happy and productive I was in a rut and having a hard time dealing with a mediocre life. Was I still …show more content…
It was as if God and a host of angels were screaming at me to listen as Jill Scott sang Golden. The static went away and I heard every word clearly. I was discontent with my life and I wanted change. I just didn’t know why I was so discontent until I heard that song. I was missing the joy that comes from living life like its Golden. You see I am a believer in the Law of Attraction and I had attracted answers to my discontentment. In that very sobering moment I knew I had attracted a message from the Universe to return to wake up and my authentic Happy …show more content…
My call to write began to evolve when I married my first husband, Mr. Wonderful.
Mr. Wonderful (or so he thought) was a hardworking man who managed to stay busy every minute of the day. He was busy at work, busy at the gym, busy at the church, busy counseling friends, and busy thinking heavenly thoughts (or so I thought). We hardly had time to breath the same air. Our lives were so disconnected it was easier to write him a letter than to find time to talk. So, I wrote him long letters that I placed on the toilet lid.
When nature called (and I knew it would), he could multitask. Upon mounting his throne, there would be a letter, filled with reminders and complaints. During my first week of letter writing I realized that he wasn’t reading my letters when he didn’t pick the kids up from basketball practice, or clothes from the cleaners or pick up the cake I ordered from the bakery. Since I wanted to reach him I changed my writing style from nagging complaints to humorous observations. It worked and he began to look forward to both his and my daily crap.
From that relationship I found my call to
“You are where your thoughts have brought you;
You will be where your thoughts take you. ”
James Allen
My commute to work, a 2 hours drive from Philadelphia to New York, had become as draining as my marriage to a gambling addict. While driving my mind often drifted off to a place where the mindless go. This appeared to be another day in which I mechanically went through the motions, just another day of losing a slice of my soul.
My sons were happily married and cleaving to their wives, just as they should. My grandchildren were beautiful and full of untamed energy that was exhausting to be around. While they all seemed to be happy and productive I was in a rut and having a hard time dealing with a mediocre life. Was I still …show more content…
It was as if God and a host of angels were screaming at me to listen as Jill Scott sang Golden. The static went away and I heard every word clearly. I was discontent with my life and I wanted change. I just didn’t know why I was so discontent until I heard that song. I was missing the joy that comes from living life like its Golden. You see I am a believer in the Law of Attraction and I had attracted answers to my discontentment. In that very sobering moment I knew I had attracted a message from the Universe to return to wake up and my authentic Happy …show more content…
My call to write began to evolve when I married my first husband, Mr. Wonderful.
Mr. Wonderful (or so he thought) was a hardworking man who managed to stay busy every minute of the day. He was busy at work, busy at the gym, busy at the church, busy counseling friends, and busy thinking heavenly thoughts (or so I thought). We hardly had time to breath the same air. Our lives were so disconnected it was easier to write him a letter than to find time to talk. So, I wrote him long letters that I placed on the toilet lid.
When nature called (and I knew it would), he could multitask. Upon mounting his throne, there would be a letter, filled with reminders and complaints. During my first week of letter writing I realized that he wasn’t reading my letters when he didn’t pick the kids up from basketball practice, or clothes from the cleaners or pick up the cake I ordered from the bakery. Since I wanted to reach him I changed my writing style from nagging complaints to humorous observations. It worked and he began to look forward to both his and my daily crap.
From that relationship I found my call to