Why can’t I get this done?
I ask myself this question a thousand times a day, it seems. I want to post. I even come up with ideas that I want to write about, but I haven’t been able to put them together. I sit down with pen and paper, and then proceed to talk myself out of it internally for days on end. Ugh. Why? Why do I do this? Then the guilt starts, and the feeling foolish, and well, just forget it, I’m done. But that’s not how I want to be, and not how I had planned for this blogging effort to go. Anyone else have this problem?
I am my own worst enemy, I know. Which makes taking corrective action all the more difficult. The last time I posted was back in April, before the lingering winter let go enough to let spring come out to play. I do fully admit, once the sun is out and it is warm enough to start reducing clothing in New England, it is TOUGH for me to be inside. That is my main distraction, my sun worship, and honestly it is killing me right now that I am not outside, cause the warm days are numbered as we approach September once again.
But that is a physical thing, meaning I can change my location and still be productive, in theory, so why doesn’t it happen? Do I not want it enough? I don’t believe that is true, I am very committed to my solo venture now. From my own self-evaluation, I find that the roots are embedded in the bedrock of self-doubt and insecurity, and a heavy amount of FEAR- that ever-present oxymoron of motivation and suppression. Which reminds me of a quotation from my favorite series of books, the All Souls trilogy:
“As far as I can tell, there are only two emotions that keep the world spinning, year after year.” He hesitated, then continued. “One is fear. The other is desire.”Matthew de Clermont, from A Discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness
So, if this is the truth I believe (and it is), then it is my fear that is driving the bus right now (and wow, is it ever a short bus…). My fear of sounding silly, of having a spelling or grammar error, of not being witty, of rambling, of not having anything to say worth reading, of not writing compelling book reviews, and so on. So many reasons why I shouldn’t say what is inside. However, if desire is leading the way, than the task isn’t monumental at all. It just flows, like now. Huh, imagine that…
I suppose I just answered my own question: No, it ISN’T this hard. I am allowing the wrong driver to take the wheel, and as soon as I fire them, then I can get back on the right road. Sounds like a plan, I think I’ll get off at this exit and do just that. Thank you for riding along with me, I hope you will return again soon. Excuse me, oh Fear, can I have a word, please?.. ~