Drafting my way into something with soul.

Ahhh... the indomitable blank page....

Let us all take a moment of reverence and honor for this gorgeous canvas of white.

 

Yeah, I'm totally putting off writing. Yep. Pegged. You got me. Shiznit.

As of now there are five billion excuses running through my head of why I can't write. What if I mess up is a big one. What will they think is another. Why the hell am I doing this anyway is following closely behind. And of course there's Who do you think you are, which reigns supreme over them all like the Royal Queen Kibosh of all my potential creative notions.

Okay, so now that we've got that out in the open, can we all agree that this is in fact the norm? That, and I swear to you, there is nobody out there who is trying to do something creative and honest who is not asking themselves these same questions or butting into these same obstacles. Not even Chuck Palahniuk, Beyoncé, or Reggie Watts. Interestingly enough, what separates these rockstars from your average joe or josefina is that even though these heinous thoughts are going through their minds... they don't allow it to stop them from doing their thing, singing their heart out, or writing that next page of their new novel. They do the work. They show up. With all the same insecurities and fears.  They do the work anyway.

That is it. That. Is. It.

Sounds simple, yes? But, I would wager, it's easily one of the hardest things on the planet. And yet, there is hope here. And that is a beautiful thing. There is hope, that if you just begin, if you just start, if you just do the work, show up fully, pour your heart into it, try and fail and try again, lean into it– then somehow, some way, your creation will begin to breathe.

I think I can just start to make out a heartbeat....

 

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