It became clear to me recently that I cannot fully separate myself from my Fear. It was likely always clear, only now I’m accepting it too. My stifling companion on my life journey. Fear. Champion excuse maker for not writing or not [WHATEVER GOES HERE].
lots to say but i can’t
The glaring truth, (that forced me to accept it), is that when I don’t write it’s not because I have nothing to say. In fact, I have lots to say; and it seems like even more is present during my can’t write times. At any given moment, there are a plethora of ideas, machinations that spark ideas, sprung up from reading, listening, watching, thinking, doing, imagining. A staggering amount of fodder for any writing purposes that engage me. And from what I’ve read on She Writes and around the web, I’m not alone in this oxymoronic predicament.
My hesitation is not simply a matter of being unable to pick what I want to write about or to do, either. My hesitation to pluck out an idea and act on it is spawned from doubt morphed into Fear: of rejection, of acceptance, of failure, of success. It’s a whirling, swirling mass of gases, liquids and some solids that knock around in my skull rather painfully at times. And, try as I might to dispel the Fear, it stands its ground. Sometimes I think I’ve gotten it all gone from my life, from whatever work I’m doing. Shortly into the calm, I learn respite is not release. I learn Fear only laid dormant, waiting for the quietest, busiest time to step up and make some damned noise about why I shouldn’t do whatever is on my mind to do.
fear and muse
Fear is not totally my enemy, though. I know this. Fear, dressed as caution, can keep me from making a huge fool of myself. And isn’t minimizing foolishness a good thing? Sometimes? I’ve been thinking about this, trying to focus on appreciating the good that is inherent in proper Fear. And it came to me…
Operating from the baseline truth, that Fear is valuable, I have a new game plan. We won’t fight. It’s not reverse psychology or flat out running away. I’m simply standing my ground, squaring off with my scary adversary using love power, to make Fear my bitch. This year I’m embracing my Fear. Making it another hero, the antithetical protagonist to my moody Muse. I’m pitting them against each other and filling my pen with the blood they draw.
I see interesting times ahead, and I’m taking notes.
Such is the shape of things today. And I’m going with it. What do you do to capitalize on dispositional changes in your life?
