Fear That Water

Once again, I find the venerable Ta-Nehisi Coates in my head:

“But the longer I write, the more I think my problems have less to do with ADD, and more to do with my desire to avoid pain. 

It's painful to write. It's painful to take a clear look at your finances, at your health, at your relationships. At least it's painful when you have no confidence that you can actually improve in those areas. I would not speak for anyone else, but most of my distractions (and I said this at SXSW) are traceable to a deep-seated fear that I may not ultimately prevail. 

I guess I could have taken a pill to ease that anxiety, and I would not disparage those who do. But there's something powerful, for me, in knowing that the anxiety is not mystical. Surely, I still often procrastinate. But conceptualizing it as fear has really helped. I don't want to be a chump. I refuse to punked by the work.”

Wading closer.

I’m not enjoying my own version of TNC's well-earned success because I don't embrace and appreciate the fear associated with writing. That will come with the confidence of knowing I can tame it, but without a clear goal of what I want my writing to do and be I don't know how to begin. Trying to overcome the fear is like jumping into the middle of the ocean without knowing which way to swim for land.

For all my gabbing and pontificating, I'm a rather self-conscious person. I'm desperate to have an audience. An audience is the first step to acceptance and acceptance is the first step towards legitimacy. I’m surrounded by ideas, but they’ve got a current and can drown me if I jump in now. I’m stuck tiptoeing down the beach and sprinting back when the surf comes in.

Gotta find my water wings.