Harmony, harmony, harmony…. This word replayed on a figurative loop in my head after I release my second book Letters to the Universe.  I had noticed a trend in my writing.  I would get really frustrated, irritated, and overwhelmed at the beginning of starting the first 2 books.  I would then feel this need to spill my frustrations onto paper.  After the first 10 to 20 poems I would start to feel a little better.  Still anxious, still overwhelmed, but somehow a little better than before.  Then for the final 100+ pages of the writing process I could somewhat enjoy it without feeling like I was caught somewhere between the tidal wave and its undertow. Stuck in the foam with just enough air to choke.  I was now treading water, but damn, I wanted to float.
 
Why was one of my favorite things causing me so much stress?  Was this a microcosm of my life?  Did life need to be stressful?  Does a job need to be difficult and boring?  Does a relationship need to be dramatic and psychologically devastating?  I had all of these questions and the answer seemed pretty plain to see. No.  Could I teach myself how to separate myself and my life from the status quo?
 
Life is supposed to be filled with peace, grace, joy, fun, contentment, and ease.  I needed to find my Harmony. So I wrote until it made sense to me.