It’s amazing to me how much I yearn to write but simultaneously fear the act of writing. I’ll sit down with pen and paper or my various electronic devices and everything freezes. All the ideas, and words, and characters swirling around my head every moment suddenly vanish like wisps of smoke in a breeze. I’m left feeling alone and barren of hope.
Then, within minutes of giving up and setting aside any implements I’d gather to capture the beasts they start to scuttle back into the light. I’ve been taking some online classes and seeking some in-person opportunities to help me kick this terrible brain habit I’ve developed. And I do look at it like a bad habit, one that needs a swift kick in the arse.
I’ve allowed fear to dominate and the brain weasels have grown so fat and content they no longer fear reprisal. I need to fight them back into submission and make them cower in the shadows, not my words waiting to hit the page. So, I’ll continue to chip away at the weasels and the fear and train my brain into doing what my heart wants. One word at a time.