I can tell you that my heart and soul believes to the very depths of my “I am Not a Waitress” toes that I am a writer.
Fear plays into the part of every creative when it comes to their work. We may pretend that it isn’t there, yet we procrastinate our time away from the keyboard by cleaning the grooves of the tile with Q-tips and polishing family silver. Or we while away our time on Facebook and Twitter when we are at our desks.
I believe in myself as a writer. I believe that part of my dharma is to use my written words to connect with others.
For the last month, I’ve averaged four or more hours a day writing. I write a weekly blog for my professional site. I write a weekly newsletter. I am 3/4 through an eCourse I created focused on clearing Brain Clutter, where I am editing lessons and later doing the course along with my class. I’m also heavily involved in a couple of joint ventures where I flex my pen.
Day in, and day out, I sit at my desk, face the fear monsters, and write.
But let me be a little vulnerable with you. Though I face my fear monsters and write, I don’t always release into the world the deepest writings. In the last year, I have stopped maintaining a personal blog of any sort.
I was blogger before blogs were commonplace and began my first blog in September 2001 and was a daily writer up until my divorce in 2004. Since that time period, I have blogged sporadically.
But I believe that in order to be a better writer, you have to get uncomfortable. You have to step outside of your comfort zone and get naked in front of a crowd of strangers. As a professional coach, I hope to share my wisdom.
As a human being, I am am more vulnerable than my professional persona.
So, here I am today, facing fear and being vulnerable with anyone who happens to pass this way. I created this fresh space to hold personal writings, knowing that what I have in my heart with be fodder for Google. (I’ve already received my first Google Notification that it has found me).
Believing in ourselves is about taking courage by the horns and riding our fears no matter where they may take us.
And devoting the first two hours of my morning at my desk – without the distraction of email, social media, or any kind of random surfing.
Because believing in myself also means keeping my priorities in line and knowing that I embrace my own funky view of balance.
For there is nothing more beautiful and seductive as writing while the dew is fresh upon the grass. And allowing the stories to breathe a life of their own as the individual words go from my mind onto the page, creating sentences, which create paragraphs. And naked pieces of my heart.