So Currently…”Don’t Be Afraid to Be Seen Trying”

Let us try an experiment.

The following blog will have no pressure. It’s just you, me, and the thoughts that sit with us.

In years past, I’ve always set up “expectations.” I’ll write more, talk more, save more, go out more. Be less myself and more this fantastic super adult that’s got things figured out. Because adults have figured this out. Right?

If I can take no other lesson from 2020, it’s that very few of us know exactly what we’re doing. Especially since most of us had very little to do. The journey to adulthood is more about figuring out what you don’t know and trying to discover more. You may have bills, jobs, and currently unrealized aspirations but you see more truth in “The journey is more important than the destination.”

Tis the season of reflection, yes, but I have to admit (and past posts will tell you) that I have an obsession with reflection. Talking as me will lead to that or the bemoaning of the creative process in all its fickleness. (Please imagine me saying that last line swooning over an expensive chaise lounge. Gives it the voice I imagine).

So currently, I want no “expectations.” I want to be happy about the things I do and happy about the effort I put into things even if no one else can see it.

My motto for this year, courtesy of Youtuber Evelyn of the Internets, is “Don’t Be Afraid to Be Seen Trying.” I scribbled this line in my journal, notecards, a piece of paper I pinned to the corkboard above my desk. I’m a big believer in writing things into reality. At this point, I hope it’s etched into my brain matter and carved into my bones. You know, as you do.

I really hope you all had a Happy New Year and giving you some good vibes to help fuel your dreams and ambitions. I will not make any predictions for 2021 (Been there, done that, let’s not discuss it again) but I hope that we can meet the challenges it throws our way and that we come out better for it.

Self-Censure

That will not be the final title and this will be deleted. I’m trying to get myself going.

I’ll write a line that I don’t think is too good. I debate its artistic merit and chastise myself for thinking that. I push through nonsense–perceived and actual all to get to that scene I want to get to. Writing will get easier once I reach…

Pause.

I try out this sentence then scratch it out.

What am I doing exactly?

Frustrated contemplation
Enact & Redact
Instate and Debate

What am I doing? This suddenly became a poem.

I can smell the stink of ideas festering in my brain. They grow more rancid and the page acts as its mirror.

I further desecrate its unmarked grave and whip the husk of the dead thing until it falls apart at my feet.

I should delete that too. Don’t I always wax poetic about dead things when I’m bereft of ideas.

I should try something fresh–both literally and figuratively.

Delete all of it.

No, not delete.

Make sure it never see the light of day.

My own dirty little secret tucked between pages.