My progress for the last few years is only some words written in a hurry. I have no idea if they’re any good or useful, but I have to trust them. They’re part of me.
I am afraid of the outcome. Any outcome. If the writing is bad, will I be able to admit that and continue working on it to improve? If it’s good, will people be able to see my insecurities? Why would they like it?
I use all these fears and questions of a hypothetical future to excuse me for not doing the work. I try to catch myself early, but it doesn’t always work.
When I started I never thought it will be so difficult to get my butt in the chair and do the work.
Once I start writing my mind becomes peaceful and I am able to pick which thought to follow. With every word I lay down, I feel pulled into the page. I write without doubt, without second-guessing, without insecurities.
All that I write becomes solid and this makes things clear. I am able to understand who I am through the words I set free on the page.
Every day I manage to write even one single word, I am grateful. I am grateful for the words finding their way to the page and for the change they’ve started inside my mind and soul.
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