Doing What Makes my Soul Sing

I am the Fruity Muse. I am a writer. I am rediscovering this, and I have decided to pursue it full-flame with complete determination, intention, and allowing. I am not putting pressure on myself about this anymore, and I am not concerned with the outcome, or about accomplishing anything. I am taking it one day at a time, practicing writing and being a writer.
Since I was four I knew my purpose was to be a writer. Since I was in fourth grade my mom told me she knew I was a writer, and that it would be a hugely significant focus in my life. I've always wanted to write an amazing book, or three, or ten, or fifty, and I've always remembered, after time and time again of forgetting, trying too hard, or making excuses, that this is what makes my heart and soul sing.
So how did I remember? Well, I'll start with how I burned myself out a few weeks ago. A few weeks ago, I burned myself out. I decided that it was time to begin working on putting together my first book of poems, and I had this belief that I needed to do way more in a day than was even enjoyable. So I typed, typed, typed for two days and I got really tired from being on the computer and looking at those poems from a certain chapter in my life so much it made me hate them. But I kept going cause I knew other people didn't hate them, they were touched, they loved them, and I needed to give this to them. But I just stopped for a while on it cause it stopped being fun. But...
The other day, which was my mom's 50th birthday, my grandma, her mom, had her first ever art reception where her art was being displayed at the Shaler Library on Mt. Royal Blvd. It was a big deal and we were all really excited. So I went there after this awesome meal we made for my mom with whole plant foods and and a nice little party for her where we gave her gifts. When I got there I was happy to see my grandma and some people and I felt energized being in a library, and I also met some very amazing people and connected with old friends. I kept getting the same question, over and over: "What do you do?" or: "What do you want to do?" As in, with my life. And at first I felt annoyed or flustered at the question, like, who are you to question me so, I don't need to analyze my life for you...But the more it got asked, the quicker the answer kept coming up: Write. And soon I was having lengthy discussions about creative flow, and someone told me, "If that is what you love to do, then do it. Write." Just practice every day, it's not all frilly-nilly, it's a practice, and it won't always be like this magical wind coming out of me, or a big deal, but in paying attention to the little things, it does become a magical wind coming through me, onto the pages, and I learn to appreciate myself, and I learn to love.