I’ve been thinking a lot about courage and vulnerability. It takes a kind of open
heartedness to live in who you are and let others see you. And hearts are at once
tender and soft, strong and vibrant. Hearts are most certainly breakable. So heart-living is scary as fuck!
Writing as an art is by nature vulnerable. It’s tapping into the deepest parts of
ourselves and our human experience and our relationships and putting that energy
out into the world. And when we put those small and large pieces of ourselves out
there, we never know how they’ll be received. I think the vulnerability piece is true
across genres and forms. Sometimes our deepest truths live in the most imaginative, playful, sexual,
humorous, or morbid parts of our minds.
Once we choose to put our energy out there, we foster connection. And what higher purpose is there than to connect authentically with other human beings?
So today I’m asking myself, how courageous can I be? And can I live in that space? When I stop and listen, when I breathe, I can feel myself. And when I open my eyes, I can see you. I’m alive! You’re alive! What a crazy beautiful mess it is in there and out here.
At the risk of giving advice (again :)), open up. Live in your heart. Be present in the truth of you. It’s hard, but
worth the risk. Because what’s the worst that could happen? I’m pretty sure the risk of fear-based living is greater. Because then? Then you risk missing it! And you risk denying the world your gifts.
And while you’re at it (because we’ll always be “at it”) do it in your writing, too.