Today I decided I would write something. What exactly, I wasn’t sure, but I woke up knowing I had to try. Every day I think about writing. My inner monologue thinks as if I’m writing, but the words never leave my brain.
I could write about my mental health and personal issues, but who really wants to read that? Maybe a commentary on racism and the political divide in our county? No, I don’t have the right words to conquer such a subject. Oh, I could try some sort of devotional, except I don’t know the Bible that well.
The rejection I face from my brain keeps the words from ever even trying outside. Every idea I have is shut down by one simple thought: I’m not good enough. It’s the root of how I don’t know enough, meaning I don’t really have anything to offer.
So instead of writing anything, I let my brain become overcrowded and continue starting posts in my head that remain unfinished. I fall asleep thinking about what I could say, knowing it won’t happen.
But today was different. I decided I would write something. I would take the time so the words couldn’t figuratively fester in my head. Because that’s what they do.
I actually just looked up the word fester, and it’s great. You can think of it like a wound that gets really gross, or food that becomes rotten. Whether it’s an emotion, tiger scratch, or an old clementine left in the fridge, things fester. They get worse and gross and harder to deal with. Those are the feelings in my head.
If you know me, you know I don’t like to figure out my problems alone. I need to talk through my feelings and whatever I’m facing. Tonight I was mad at my family for not talking to me about painting my apartment. This is because I have a lot of ideas and feelings and after awhile people drown me out. I’m not mad, I get it. I have a blog called Seemingly Good Ideas for a reason.
The point is, I know I need to express my feelings. I know my words need a place and I know there’s a limit to how much my friends and family can handle. Plus, when I take the time to think through something in writing, it’s like I’m releasing it. Or better yet, I’m taking care of a rotten wound.
Unfortunately this one something isn’t releasing everything I’ve had trapped in my head, but it’s a start. Today was hopefully the start of several things, including the practice of writing something.
If I can provide any help to someone reading this, if anyone has stuck through my rambling until I found my point, I would say this: do something. Revolutionary, right?
I know I’m not alone in waiting for the right moments. I’m waiting for the perfect alignment or plan before I move forward, but when has that ever happened or worked out? We can spend our whole lives waiting for a moment we’ll never see. Or we can do something. Anything.
Your first step might not be good. It might be as clumsy as this post, but you took it. That’s the important part we all miss. Spending time to get the path straight is nonsense; all we can do is focus on putting one foot in front of the other and following where we’re led. If we’re too busy looking at our feet, unsure of where they’ll take us, you’ll never get there.
Start with a day when you tried. You did something. You made a small move. I don’t know what it is you need to do, but you do. Stop waiting and go. If you fall, which you probably will, pick yourself up when you’re ready and try again. What good does staying on the ground saying ‘I knew I would fall’ do?
Build something. Say something. Try something. Change something. Break something. Lose something. Find something. Write something.
Whatever your something is, today is the day. I believe in you.