I don’t want to write this.
I’ve been nervously picking the lint off this one for days. Pick, pick, pick. The real problem is that I don’t want to talk about what I’m afraid of. That which I am afraid…prepositions. Grammatical stall. Here’s the real thing.
I don’t much like to share. We all know the natural progression is then to write a blog and invite strangers and friends to read your thoughts. Sharing is the muscle I don’t work very often. Oh, it’s there. It’s tiny and malformed and if I concentrate I can make it do elaborate feats like pick up an emotional potato chip.
Because I don’t like to share (nose wrinkle), this could be two very different posts. It could be the one where I (lie and) describe to you confidently how I conquer my fears with an easy to follow 1,2,3 list. Or it could be a rambling avoidance that neither identifies my fears nor discusses how I make them work for me. How they make me work for them. It’s probably going to be a strange mélange of all of the above.
I am a firm believer in embracing what scares me. But, embracing may not be the right word—I’m more for grabbing it like a drowning person who clings to a lone tree limb on an rough sea. Clinging to that fear as if it and only it has the power to save me. Wrassling it to the ground and girl slapping it in attempts to take what it stole from me when I wasn’t looking. Having a staring contest with my fear until it breaks or my eyes pop out.
You get it. You gotta Chuck Norris your fear, as best you can.
My theory is it’s all about desensitization. Stalk your fear. Look at it. Get too close. Touch it with one finger. Then grab it with both arms and pull it close. Uncomfortably close. Now stay that way until your fear has the same power as a leaf blowing in the wind.
I realize that I give my fear all the power its ever needs to grow and thrive and become bigger than me. I am also the only one who can take its power away. So, who’s really in control? (Pssst: me)
Do you remember your first time on a high board when you were little? I do. I loved to swim and most summers were spent at the pool. I remember we lived in West Layfatte, Indiana, home of Purdue. One of my friend’s Dad worked and the University so we would go down to their giagantic pool. They had a really high diving board. (foreboding) As I climbed the ladder up to the diving board, I might as well have been climbing to do my high wire act. Everything became so small from that height, including me.
This is a part of the story when I tell you that I’ve always had a significant fear of heights and try to overcome it by going on roller coasters, peering over ledges and, well, jumping off high dives.
I stood on that diving board for a long time, trying to screw up my courage. Picturing myself jumping…to my death. I finally did jump and, of course, what I imagined was much much worse that what the experience was really like. This is a small story about a small fear but I share it because regardless of the magnitude, your fear can be stared down. Get close to your fear. Growl at it. Wait for it to growl back. Growl louder. Let fear provoke you.
Do you know what scares me, besides alligators, being eaten by a bear and swimming in open water? Writing my thoughts down and having you read them. Really uncomfortable with this. Don’t misunderstand—I like an exchange of ideas. But I know what draws me in, what turns my thoughts hard onto a new point of view. It’s when people are able to express themselves in a way that is achingly honest and vulnerable to the point of nakedness. That is what makes me lean in. It’s a powerful thing to make someone feel something. I’m afraid I’ll miss the mark.
So this is how I am taking control of this one. Grabbing it and holding on while IT attempts to buck me off repeatedly all the while I’m not sure if it’s a better idea to hang on through the pain or land hard in the dirt.
I think I know what you’re thinking. “What’s the big deal? So you write down words and people read them. Happens every day.”
You say this because this is not your fear, its mine. If you only knew how well I’ve fed it.
Wow. It reads just right……and makes my stomach bunch up, in the right ways. I believe you made this one your bitch. Congratulations, well done!
Great job! and thanks for telling me how to do it. I have the same fear. I have no problem commenting and agreeing when my thoughts are expressed by others, or more accurately, when I recognize my own thoughts in other people’s writings. But to articulate my own thoughts with the intent to put them out, they don’t show up on the screen, because the fingers don’t work right. They do all kinds of weird things such as click on this link or check that stat or whatever, but express.
Thanks for the inspiration.
Rasheed,
I bet you and I are not the only ones, huh?!
Thanks for your comments and please visit often.
Take Care,
Jill
We have a saying at my house. Fear is a terrible reason not to do something. (Yet, is the reason we don’t change or challenge ourselves.) HMMMMMMMMMMMMMM. Let’s do what makes us fearful!
Jill -
First off, thanks for swinging by my site and leaving me a comment. I have to say the title to this post intrigued me so I swung back here to read this post. And you didn’t disappoint. This is a well written article. Keep up the great work and kick that fear’s ass
Paul
Paul,
I’m so glad you visited my site! Please come back often. I really appreciate your comments.
Take Care,
Jill
That really struck me in the heart. I am fairly new to blogging and have not been moved to comment on others blogs before. My sister wishes she could write like me, but the authenticity of your writing made me wish I could write like you! Obviously you aren’t the only one to be fearful of being honest to the point of nakedness. I have been wondering what I want to achieve with my blogging and you have turned my head around.I found your link on Yaro Staraks blog. My blog is http://northcoastliving.wordpress.com/
Thank you
I really just stumbled upon your site when I was on another and I’m so GLAD. Wow, this site really applies to me as does this article. I have been research starting a blog for about 6 months and have a target date of 1/3/10 and I’m so scared. First, setting it up. Second, what if nobody reads it. Third, what if like you said “miss the mark” Fourth, what I run out of content. I could go on and on. So, I’m so glad I found you today and will be following you loyally
sharon,
Thanks for visiting and for your comment. Very exciting that you are starting a blog of your own.
GO MAKE SOME MISTAKES. It it the most indelible way to learn. There are so many great resources/tutorials online that can help you along the way.
Let me know when you are up!
Thanks,
Jill
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Thank you for putting out this blog and being so honest.
Fear has a voracious appetite. It’s certainly been well fed by me over the years through various means: fear of failure, fear of embarrassment etc. I could’ve started my blog, or some other kind of writing as my friends kept encouraging me to do years ago, but fear continued to grip me warmly by the throat and coldly by the heart until this year. The difference between now and then is that I made a decision at the end of 2008 to learn to trust in 2009. I got a chance to prove it right at the start of the year when I was facing a major operation, which went very well and a long dormant work situation which is now just starting to move forward – in this recession! And then there’s my blog. Regardless of the amount of people reading it (or not) I will continue because I enjoy it. I will continue to roller skate badly because I enjoy it. Joy is infectious, is it not? I have to fight almost every day to remain open and not fall back to those comfortable self-saboteurs, but trusting makes you free, does it not?