By the looks of things around here, I bet you thought the worst. So had I. I haven’t posted a damn thing in an entire month.
Hard decisions needed to be made. Do I stay, or do I go? And if I stay, what then?
The spark of creativity had not only gone out, but left a permanent scar where it had once burned fierce and bright, leaving a thickening of skin, a glaring and permanent reminder of what once was, leaving me to wonder if it ever will be again.
If you are wondering what I am referring to, consider the concept of writer’s block. To me it was as real as a brick wall. One I was constantly bashing my head against trying to keep up with others by challenging myself to write so much per day, per month. I can’t do that anymore. I simply can’t.
The only thing I succeeded in accomplishing, is creating and perfecting the art of suffering from anxiety attacks.
Many believe writer's block does not exist. Only barriers we make to subconsciously sabotage ourselves as we are that afraid of success. Oh it’s easy to accept failure. Painful too. But not as much as success.
Success changes everything. And let’s face it, most of us like that comfort zone we’ve become accustomed to and grip onto it as if our very lives depended on it.
But what has that comfort zone done for you lately?
Thrilled you? Made you feel so alive you see every single sunrise as an opportunity to face and conquer, well, everything?
Not here it hasn’t. So I’m kicking it to the curb.
This simply won’t do. Just as I stated in the title: Fear is what you make it. So is Failure.
And if that is true, so are the opposites: Courage and Success.
I am going to return to that which brought me here to begin with: flash fiction, short fiction, and poetry. Some photography too, but not much. Only if it can inspire one of those other things I mentioned. And, I will no longer begin each day with a task, particularly ones that begin with, “I must do [this] by the end of the day/week/month”.
I will have goals, but will not beat myself up mercilessly if I do not meet them. (Okay, okay, I may bash myself about a bit, but I promise no bloodletting or severe bruising.)
I want to do more, but baby steps are needed. I know I’ll fall flat on my face a few times, but why force the issue. I’m a miler, not a sprinter.
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