Image source. I love it. I want one of my very own.
I’ve NEVER considered myself a writer. Not until very recently. But the absurd reality is that since early, early childhood, my head has been swimming with words. Words that fill me with joy and inspire me to my core, words that make me wild with anxiety and burden my soul. . . words that scream at me from the inside. WORDS.
I write, because if I don’t, I go crazy. Wildness overcomes my soul and I start to feel like I’m going to catch fire from the inside out.
Just so we’re clear, this is all very embarrassing for me to admit. I feel silly and trendy and ridiculous. But the bottom line is this, complete transparency makes me feel more at home in my own life. Writing it all out, the good, the bad, the downright ugly. . . somehow, putting it on paper makes it all make sense. Somehow it gives me bearings and helps me know where I’m headed and the significance of where I’ve been.
But there’s no time. There are too many distractions. I’m constantly overcome with debilitating anxiety when I sit down to write, because trust me, I’m FULLY aware that I’m only marginally good at it.
The reality is, there are SO MANY THINGS in my life that I’m not very good at but that bring me immeasurable joy, clarity and peace. I’ll never be the best at ANYTHING I do. Never.ever. But that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t. . . do. And the same is true of you. Whatever your “thing” is. Get out and do it. With your whole heart. We’re only here once. . . and not for nearly long enough.
No more excuses.
I’ll be here. . . keeping calm. Writing on.
What will you be doing?