If you could take a weekend and look at everything that means anything to you…what do you think you’d find? Do you think you’d learn who you truly are? Would you listen to that inner doubting voice that tells you to let the world dictate your experience? Or would you try and find your peace? Would you let other people define who you are? Or would you discover for yourself? If I could tell you the answer to these questions…people would be lining up in droves, throwing Benjamins my way, while waiting for some magical answer to the problems that keep plaguing all of our lives.
I am a writer, and in being a writer; I thoughtfully and methodically pour over words for months, even years sculpturing fantasies for my readers. I pray for the slight chance that I’ve created a world that they can’t wait to escape into. However; making readers fall in love with characters that only exist in my head produces a very delicate vulnerability within me.
I’ll be the first to admit, as I let the hammer of insecurity slam against the thin bones of my self-doubt, I can feel them begin to shatter in the moments of real desperation as I dance on the thin line of who I think I should be and who I truly am.
When did I, as a writer, decide to pander to the dispassionate and unbelievers? Was it the instant I decided to believe in a reality that exists only outside of myself?
I totally get it….I totally understand you wanna get yours, just as I wanna get mine. But if getting mine inhibits you from getting yours; would the empty trophies of triumph I collect really be worth it? Or would the sting of words, not meant to be uttered, taint the well of harmony within the writing community I so dearly love?
If I’d only take a splinter of time to recognize the grandeur of moments shared between a smile and a look…even the words I’ve shared across a table…maybe, just maybe my life would be different. Is it fair of me to take the life changing moment from someone simply because they don’t understand what I do? Is it inconsequential to share that sacred place within me as I peel back the scars from words so thoughtlessly thrown against my thin skin? Maybe.
But what if…just what if, I took all those moments of weakness, and the vulnerable split second decisions that thunder so violently through my thoughts and shift the burden of misunderstanding to the weight of having faith in something greater?
It isn’t the thoughts that sail in and out of my intellect that power my experience, it’s the ones that decided to set up neighborhoods in my mind that begin to take hold and shape my life.
I think it is time to become aware of my thinking, because what I think becomes what I experience (no matter what). So maybe it’s time to check out what neighborhoods I keep building and rebuilding in my mind.
Thanks for hanging out and reading my ramblings!
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