Ridiculous. It’s how I’ve been feeling. Merriam Webster online dictionary’s primary definition of the word is:
Feeling like I might deserve ridicule is not a pleasant place to be and it certainly contributes to a huge writer’s block.
Not long ago some criticism took the wind out of my sails. Writing has been painfully difficult. Well, actually clicking the publish button is what has been hard. Writing and then publishing it in a blog with even the most limited readership is not an easy thing for me.
“Why do I still l try?” you ask.
First: Over the years, there have been many things that were not discussed either in my family, my community, or in my church. I believe that there is a lot of inner pain and suffering that remained locked up in places no one dared open. I’m not just talking about my personal pain. Every day I am keenly aware of how many people are hurting, insecure, lacking love and attention, feeling that they aren’t good enough.
Being able to admit and own how I feel is an on-going process but an extremely valuable one. It’s part of healing. Getting things out in the light often kills the things it should. . . like vampires, mildew, maybe? Battling the supernatural or mildew is best left to some one else with the name Buffy or Van Helsing or Mr. Bleach. We just have to get some things in the light and the light will take care of the rest.
My job is hard enough: being me. It’s so easy to get off course and forget how. Finding out how I feel or what I really think helps me get back to the job of being me. It’s time I started to buckle down and master this. And for some reason beyond my understanding, I do a certain amount of that in print, on a little known blog.
Second, in my human stumbling through my quirky little psyche, I believe I have something to offer. That something may be useful to only one person, once in a blue moon but now that I know blue moons exist, it has made all the difference. Believe it or not, I don’t always like hitting that publish button and if you mention something I wrote, there are times, when I’ll blush in embarrassment. Some times, I still feel ridiculous and I probably am.
It isn’t easy being emotionally genuine and I don’t always make the mark. I believe in its value even when I can’t see it. Disillusion-al? In denial? Definite possibilities. I, however, consider this an assignment. If I didn’t there would be no point in my doing this crazy thing that makes me uncomfortable. I actually think of it as a long term project for a grad class in which God/the Universe is the teacher. There is no way I want to disappoint Dr. God. Some times I do. I often disappoint myself but it doesn’t change the assignment. I’ve got to show up and give it a try. It’s that simple.
These last few months, I’ve been stuck in a shame tornado. I’ve also been more than a little peeved at the world in general. This made writers block into writers stone cold mountain. Tunneling through wasn’t working. Darn cave ins. Can’t find good psychic mine workers these days that will work 24/7 for free. Time to go around. Practical, efficient and not ridiculous in the least.