writing is hard
…for me right now. Every time I think of something to say, the flood comes – a flash flood of understanding about how what I will say, will affect others, and possibly myself. That may only be longhand for, “I’m pretty afraid to say what I really think for fear of the results.” It may be partly that.
Part of that is “what people think of me,” but only part. I care about that. Don’t you? I wonder about you if you truly don’t.
Fear – fear is part of it. I fear reprisal. I fear negative words thrown at me. I fear interpersonal conflict. I fear ecclesiastical consequences. As much as I’d like to say I’m past that last one, I know that I’m really not. Unfortunate. Fear is a very familiar companion of mine.
I don’t want to hurt others. I don’t want to say something that will act (and sometimes inevitably our words do) as a weapon toward someone, or any group of people. I can be vague and clever, yes, but I’m also smart enough to realize that as vague and clever as you may be, people still get it when it’s about them.
I want, sometimes still, to say large things, to a large audience. Well, to a small, large audience, if that makes any sense at all. Some idea about myself, though, says that I am no longer qualified to do that – that I have somehow given up my voice. I hope that’s not true.
So, hopefully, I can learn how to be slowly more courageous. Little by little, perhaps I can begin to speak again, to say what is being spoken inside me, to forgo the companionship with fear… slowly… hopefully.
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