Will I write?

Okay, here I go.  Use to spend 10 minutes a day free writing.  But since I started to focus on novel writing, I have been consumed with working on books and not so much on just writing.  I miss the words flowing freely from my mind to the my fingers, then the page in front of me.  Often times, I would gaze out the window, as not censor what I typed.  Just let it be typos and all.  I’m still working on not correcting typos.  I hate the little red squiggly lines under my writing.

I was excited for this challenge.  I was going to do at work, figured it would be a nice break from work.  That didn’t happen.  Seems like I kept finding excuse after excuse not to write.  Perhaps because I knew I was going to post it here.  Let the world see it, read it.  See me exposed unfiltered.  Unedited.

I have always had a fear of judgement.  Even now, as I decided to change careers.  Become a writer.  My ego plays toys with my soul.  Baits me to change my mind. Stay in the safe secure job.  Don’t jump.  When I was younger I never had a problem jumping, I knew I could fly.  Always landing on my feet.  And now.  I am paralyzed by own created fear.  What if no one likes my writing?  What if it is no good?  I compare myself to others.  They are so much better than me.  Sometimes, I think I am better, but not for long.  I am trapped in my own created fear of rejection.  Being naked and exposed.

Bottom line is, who cares?  In the end, does it really matter.  If I write a couple novels, self publish and no one reads them.  Or even if people hate them.  I did it.  I conquered my own fear  My own fear of rejection and judgement.  In the end, I can say.  I did it.

Another thing, I hate the word should.  I try to eliminate it as much as possible.  Yet, the my title should I write?  I think I will change it to will I write?

I keep looking at the time.  I am hungry.  Ready for dinner and the dogs are growing restless.  I the outdoors are calling me.  I can hear children playing.  Enjoying the moment.  They are not yet consumed with worries and fears.  Work and bills.

Yes, I will write.  I will become a writer.  I will return to that childhood place.  The Tao place of being in the moment.  Because really that is all we really have is this moment.  This moment right now.  And now it’s gone and on to the next.  Makes me wonder why I have wasted so much time worrying.  Like I said I use to fly.  I have forgotten how.  Ego has stopped me.  So, here I stand at the edge of the cliff, looking down.  My toes hanging over.  Loose pieces of dirt and gravel fall.  I again peer over.  Do I dare fly?  Do I remember?  Do I believe?  Ego wants me to stay to be afraid, to go to work tomorrow and stay in the same boring rut.  Yet, something deep inside of me tugs at me.  Pulls at me.  It wants me to jump, to fly.  In this moment, the only moment there is.

Life changes are scary.  Trying new things are scary.  This is the beginning and lucky you, lucky you, you are here to witness it.  To be part of it.  Perhaps when I have published novels, I will look back at this blog and remember this is when I decided to jump.  When I remembered how to fly!

Everyone has to start some where.  This is my beginning.


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