Fear and Failure, White Noise and Writing
My computer has been comandeered by the boys. In our desperation to get Tiny to sleep through the night, we are using it as a white noise machine during naptime and night time. This should be great, except that I have trouble writing when they are rampaging during the day, and all my cool pictures for the blog are on the Mac. So aforementioned Mac is playing ocean sounds absolutely guaranteed to make our baby sleep through the night (they haven't) while I type up pictureless blogs on the Man's PC. This is how the world goes...
I've been thinking about writing lately. Not just writing, really, because I write pretty frequently, but writing to be read. The truth is: I'm a chicken. It's not even the fear of having someone tell me that what I'm writing is absolute rot (though that's there too), but the way that words can bounce back at you from the silence. And the echo effect makes them sound incredibly pretentious and idiotic. Ever noticed that?
I'm learning to risk more. I've put more out there this year than I have in a while, but the fear is always there, and it would be so much easier to just Not. There is no risk involved in sitting on the couch watching a movie. There is no risk involved in going through the motions at home. But I'm not sure I want a risk free life at this point. It's baby steps, and I acknowledge that. I'm not writing a three part novel and sending it in to a publisher by any means. But even just typing this blog while my husband plays a video game and reads over my shoulder invites that little trickle of fear that challenges me to step out of my comfort zone and venture into uncertainty.
It's an every day process to look myself in the eyes and ask, "What is it that you are afraid of doing?" and then go do that very thing. But I think the results might be worth the effort.
The results of my computer-turned-sound-machine are not so promising. My prayer life, on the other hand, is spiking in preparation for the day when I can pray for something other than a semi-decent night of sleep. You win some, you lose some.
I've been thinking about writing lately. Not just writing, really, because I write pretty frequently, but writing to be read. The truth is: I'm a chicken. It's not even the fear of having someone tell me that what I'm writing is absolute rot (though that's there too), but the way that words can bounce back at you from the silence. And the echo effect makes them sound incredibly pretentious and idiotic. Ever noticed that?
I'm learning to risk more. I've put more out there this year than I have in a while, but the fear is always there, and it would be so much easier to just Not. There is no risk involved in sitting on the couch watching a movie. There is no risk involved in going through the motions at home. But I'm not sure I want a risk free life at this point. It's baby steps, and I acknowledge that. I'm not writing a three part novel and sending it in to a publisher by any means. But even just typing this blog while my husband plays a video game and reads over my shoulder invites that little trickle of fear that challenges me to step out of my comfort zone and venture into uncertainty.
It's an every day process to look myself in the eyes and ask, "What is it that you are afraid of doing?" and then go do that very thing. But I think the results might be worth the effort.
The results of my computer-turned-sound-machine are not so promising. My prayer life, on the other hand, is spiking in preparation for the day when I can pray for something other than a semi-decent night of sleep. You win some, you lose some.
