I dream of being a writer. I’ve majored in English, I’ve dabbled in journalism, and I write legal jargon at work. I’ve practiced what I know I can accomplish. But I want to be a real writer. I want to write what makes my heart sing, and I want to make a difference.
Yet, what do I have to say that hasn’t been said much more eloquently before? What if I never write well? I edit. I practice. Still perfection is beyond the horizon. What is the point if I never accomplish anything?
I’ve circled in this whirlpool for years. Should I even bother to write? What if I fully stake my heart in this, and it’s crushed forever? Just start. Just practice, I think. But I know I could practice my entire life and never produce a best seller. So I procrastinate the comforting dream rather than plunge into the whirlpool of complete failure.
I’ve spent my entire life thinking if I was any good, I would accomplish something big. I’d write that best seller. I’d be courageous like the people in books. But I haven’t. I’m not. The current pulls me under.
I come up for air. The fresh breath re-inspires me to struggle a little longer.
What’s wrong with me? All the struggle and expectations are phony. Most of the great people I know have never done anything newsworthy. Yet, they’ve touched my life and many other lives. Even book heroes have the boring years of their lives edited out.
What really makes a hero? Aren’t good men the ones who help without expecting anything in return? The ones who are faithful every day without expecting recognition or reward?
I’ve been swimming in this whirlpool strapped with anchors. The expectations of acknowledgement and success weigh me down, keeping me entangled in the idea that I’m worth nothing unless I achieve something.
Yet, it’s been the normal people who have taken the time help me. Can I too, simply help someone else without expectations? Can I drop the weights of success and respect and be faithful every day?
Dropping these anchors make me feel vulnerable but light. I like writing. It clears my head and inspires me. It helps me converse more clearly.
Writing is like having a deep conversation with God. If I simply enjoy it, that is fine. If my writing touches a few people, that’s more than enough.
Photo credit Moyan Brenn.