I like to believe that I live by a philosophy birthed by Virginia Woolf--that to be a successful writer one must have a room of one's own and kill the angel in the house. It is the second part of this philosophy that I'm considering today.
The Angel in the house is a phantom in my head that harps on loyalty, charity, forgiveness and humility. These are not bad qualities, and they are a part of my life philosophy. However, the Angel in my head is also the first lady of martyrdom. Oh woe is me.
The goal is to kill the Angel in the house--invite equality into your living room and express yourself. I have a room of my own. I am married to a man who encourages and supports me. I have ideas and the ability and means to express them. I have succeeded.
But the Angel does not die so easily. She finds other places to live. Like in my cubicle. If Virginia could see our lives today, would she add another point to the list for success? Would she change the mantra? Kill the Angel in the cubical?
I believe she would.
Angel, I'm calling you out. Pack your damn bags.
