I am afraid.
For a long time, I wasn’t sure of what, though?
No, that’s not true, I’ve always known. It’s writing.
I am afraid of writing.
It’s hard to do.
Much harder than any long run, ride, or wave crashing, drowning-like sensation inducing swim I’ve ever swum.
But the only thing harder, tougher, more brutal, more soul-crushingly masochistic than the simple act of transferring thoughts into words on a page, is sharing what I’ve written.
Matthew Dicks, Someday Is Today.
Allowing my writing to be read is like standing naked at the edge of a poorly lit stage in front of every crush, bully, friend, stranger, and cheerleader I’ve ever known, completely mute, only worse.
I am afraid that my passion, gift, and lifelong purpose of my spreading my point of view through clever sentences and punchy paragraphs, instead of sincerity, reeks of self-righteous courage that isn’t inspiring, but clumsy, misguided, and just a wordy waste of time.
For everyone.
It’s scary and glorious to have a genuine understanding of my greatest fear.
It’s familiar, it behaves just like a little sister; loyal, honest, swarming, annoying, and relentless.
It won’t stop.
It pokes at my pride, dangles elation, and promises destruction.
Again, and again.
A pinching reminder that life is about building up, breaking down, not giving up, in fact giving too much, and trying, probably too hard, to be better every day.
It’s an ongoing cycle whether I tackle it, or not.
Whether I enjoy it, or not.
Whether I share my carefully, (or brazenly) crafted words or not, the buzz continues.
The fear won’t weaken, or disappear, not while I’m alive.
Its patience is unparalleled, it knows me well; it’s part of me.
All of me.
So, I am going to give it what we want.
Attention.
The year of fun has begun.
The song and video choice this week was my favorite part of the Oscar's this year. Enjoy.:)